


responsible forever for what you have tamed

by leighbot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighbot/pseuds/leighbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He deals with a sassy, 500 pound liger every day, but Harry Styles might be his downfall. The thought doesn’t scare him as much as he thought it would.</i><br/> </p>
<p>Or, the one where Harry runs away to escape his past and Louis has nowhere else to go to have a future.</p>
<p>Circus Fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	responsible forever for what you have tamed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juliusschmidt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliusschmidt/gifts).



> This has been an absolute whirlwind and a pleasure to write, thank you so much for the prompt! I sunk my teeth into it and never looked back. Thank you to T for the lovely brit pick and wonderful cheerleading, for which J must also get credit: though she hasn't yet read it, her pom poms were flying high.
> 
> Possible warning for approximately 8000 of the words you are about to read being focused on big cats? In all seriousness, though: this is a fictional circus where the animals are treated with 100% respect and even PETA would approve. In reality, circuses are **not** animal friendly, and many countries having pending legislation to ban wild animals from performing in circuses. No animals are harmed in this story.
> 
> Implied previous Louis/Zayn, though the latter is never mentioned by name.
> 
> Title taken from 'The Little Prince'.

  **responsible forever for what you have tamed**

 

**~*~**

 

The day Louis meets Harry is rather unremarkable in almost every way.

The caravan bumbles its way to the next city in the early morning hours, coming to a stop around nine o’clock and it’s a mad rush after that to get ready for the evening. Louis isn’t even sure where they are today, somewhere south of Manchester since that’s where they had left the day before. Manc had been a welcome relief to the smaller shows they do, enough people in attendance to make each performance wildly different from the next, and Louis isn’t looking forward to the next six weeks of smaller cities until they reach London.

He ducks into his cats’ trailer, five large crates lining the sides. Aslan and Baruti are grunting, seconds away from practicing their roaring “song” and Louis loves them, truly he does, but he’s far too tired to listen to that. He approaches Aslan first, the older and paler lion watching him as he paws at the front of his crate. He’s a Transvaal lion, with a thick and heavy, dark mane. He’s used to traveling so he’s relatively calm, and he lets Louis approach without making any warning signals. Louis sets his hand against the metal door of the crate, Aslan rubbing his cheek in the same spot in greeting. Louis presses his fingers into his skin gently, reaching in slowly and getting his hand fully in Aslan’s mane. For all that he’s a light lion, only a few shades darker than white, his mane is a gorgeous assortment of colours: gold around his face and near black where it extends over his shoulders.

He _tsks_ and coos while he scratches the big man’s ears. Aslan makes a purring sound like he’s a proper house cat instead of a 450 pound ferocious beast, and Louis laughs as he pulls away. “We’ll get you out into your pen soon,” he promises, turning to Baruti and repeating his earlier approach, moving slow and calm. Baruti’s young and feisty, a Masai lion with a dark golden-red mane and they had almost named him ‘Mufasa’ for the resemblance; he’s mostly harmless but Louis takes no risks with his cats- an attack by one of them would mean that _he_ had failed to keep them safe and comfortable, and there’s nothing Louis wouldn’t do for them.

Baruti doesn’t seem to want Louis to pet him, still agitated from the travel, but he does lick his tongue through the metal cage door. Louis laughs again as he backs off, always likes to leave with a laugh since he was little and realized the cats like the sound. He visits his two year-old liger next, Aslan’s daughter by a female tiger they’d hired for breeding. It had been a rash decision on his part, and Nia doesn’t listen to him very much yet, but she’s sweet and docile, her tail flicking against the side of her crate as she watches Louis approach.

“Hi sweet girl,” he coos, giving her time to adjust to his presence before he kneels down near her head, nudging his fingers inside. She lifts her spotted head and stares at them, breathing out through her nose loudly and lifting a paw to bat at them. Louis steals his hand away at the last second, watching her face as she realizes what he did. She looks at him confused and he laughs loud, sliding them in again.

Again, her large paw lifts up and drops where his fingers seem to be, but he pulls them away too quickly. She makes a growling sound but Louis knows when she’s playing and he gives her one more chance. He puts his fists in and lets her paw smack on the top of them, absorbing the blow and letting her “catch” him before he frustrates her.

“You smart, smart girl,” he says, letting her nose at his hand before she backs off, recognizing his smell. He watches as she lifts her head- a regal queen if he’s ever seen one- and he finds himself amazed at her size as always. She’s only two, may grow still for another year or two, but she’s already bigger than her father, weighing in at almost 500 pounds. Her ears are darker than her body but she’s got her father’s colouring, her coat broken up by dark brown stripes from her mother.

He leaves with his regular laugh, stepping to the other side of the trailer. Others have come in since him; Bobby Horan, the vet tech, and his son Niall; as well as his mum’s husband, Mark, the head lion tamer. They move around to the lions and Nia, letting Louis approach each one first to calm them after their journey.

He walks between the tigress crate, clucking hello to Devi and Kali as he nears them. The most mellow of all the felids he’s ever worked with, he doesn’t wait as long to step up to them. They share together, litter mates and companions since birth, and they both press their faces into the hands he holds out for them.

He lets them sniff him and press against each other as they try to get closer, Devi larger by a few stone and able to wiggle her sister aside. He lowers his hand to pat her mostly-white chest before sticking his other hand in to scratch the bridge of Kali’s nose. “Plenty of me to go around,” he boasts, earning a chuckle from the Horans. He grins to himself: Niall may be easy to please, but Bobby’s usually stone-faced around the animals. Earning a laugh from him while he’s working is rare; Louis’ just a bit miffed it wasn’t even one of his best jokes.

He finally leaves, letting Mark and Bobby have their space. He and Niall walk out together, bumping shoulders but staying quiet as they head over to the pen being set up for the animals to have some green space. Besides the elephants they have- two beautiful girls by the names of Jalini and Chandaa- the cats are the most important part of their show. They market themselves as the most animal-friendly circus in the universe, and they constantly strive to maintain that. Mark won’t allow anything else, and he’d raised Louis to view the animals as members of his team instead of props to abuse.

Jalini is already being led outside one of the heavy-haul lorries that take her and Chandaa between cities. She’s the oldest animal in their show at twenty-three, and they all give her preferential treatment. Eleven year-old Chandaa either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that they are partial, following Jalini around like a calf when she can. Sure enough, they stop and watch her head down the ramp, trumpeting loudly. Jalini answers with a higher and shorter sound, and Chandaa ambles in her direction and pulls her tail once when she gets closer.

Niall pushes closer to Louis, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and it’s only then that Louis realizes he’s shivering a bit, the morning damp raising gooseflesh on his skin. He hunches his back a bit and cuddles closer under Niall’s warm arm, the younger lad smart enough to be wearing a jumper.

“Tea?” Niall asks him, voice still hoarse from sleep. Louis nods and lets himself be led away, ambling up the steps to his mum’s bus. The twins are up and braiding each other’s hair in turn, blushing when they see Niall and giggling to themselves.

“‘S gross my little sisters have a crush on you,” Louis stage whispers, enjoying the way their faces go darker when they hear. Phoebe opens her mouth as if to argue, but Daisy tugs a braid by accident and the pain distracts her.

Taking advantage, Louis pulls Niall away and into the small kitchen area, checking the camping kettle on the stove. The water is just past boiling, right on schedule. He grabs three mugs down, pouring milk into his and then water into all three. Niall hands him the tea bags, two in each, and they let them sit for a minute while they put together cereal for the twins. He uses the last of the milk in the two remaining teas, discarding the bags and turning a blind eye to the unlawful amount of sugar Niall adds to the two mugs.

The twins take their cereal carefully to the little booth off the kitchenette, piling in and starting to eat quickly. Louis brings his tea to his lips, blowing the steam off the top once before taking a long sip and enjoying the familiar burn. Nothing wakes him up and gets him ready for the day better than a light scalding; his response is practically Pavlovian. Niall just chuckles to himself and lets his cool, the door going precisely on time as Liam pads up the steps and accepts the third mug.

The three of them have been friends for so long they don’t need to exchange pleasantries, instead moving in line to the sofa and collapsing onto it, enjoying their quiet moments with their tea before the twins finish brekkie and the day kicks into high gear for them all.

~*~

It’s not until an hour before the show that Louis catches sight of the new guy. He’s been in-and-out of the cat enclosure, Aslan and Baruti having a slight dominance disagreement that ended with the two of them being separated. Louis hates keeping the animals apart, but they can’t risk one of them hurting the other over a silly patch of grass.

“This isn’t the bloody Pride lands,” he’d whispered as they led Aslan into a new pen. He was closer to Nia now, the two of them bumping noses through their wire fencing and pacing back-and-forth in sync.

So Louis’ tired and crabby when he steps into the arena, prepared for heavy lifting. He stops short when he sees it mostly set up, a tall, curly-haired lad pushing some of the largest equipment around like it weighs nothing.

Louis grabs Lottie’s arm as she walks past, long hair down to her waist.

“Who’s that?” he asks, nodding his head to indicate the new lad though it’s unnecessary- they don’t get very many new faces in a travelling circus and Lottie knows Louis’ habits anyway.

She rolls her eyes but answers anyway. “His name’s Harry Styles and he ran away from home when his mum died. Bobby took him in, he’s been mucking out stables and getting things set up all day.”

Louis watches the way the lad’s muscles smoothly move under the fabric of his thin t-shirt.

“Harry Styles, eh?” Louis asks with a grin.

“Leave him alone, Lou. The twins already call him ‘Hazza bear’ after he let them braid his hair earlier. Mum will kill you if you scare away this one.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “They all leave anyway, I might as well have some fun with them before they go.”

Lottie rolls her eyes right back at him, making a gagging sound. “Fizz and I will clear out of the bus for the next week or so then,” she says before smiling and walking away. Louis stays rooted to the ground, watching with a slight frown as Harry wipes his brow with his t-shirt sleeve, smiling when one of the other assistants says something to him. He’s blatantly staring, and Harry must sense it because he looks over his shoulder, his grin turning hesitant when they make eye contact.

Even from the distance, Louis can see the definition in his arms, the thickness of his eyebrows and the way his hair curls under the truly hideous headscarf he’s wearing. Louis wants to smile at him, knows he’s still frowning in contemplation, but a shout of “heads up!” behind him has him ducking down instead, hunching his shoulders as a wide beam crosses the air where his forehead had just been.

“ _Seriously_ , Greg?” he calls out, the Irish accent in the warning giving the culprit away.

“Sorry, mate! Maybe if you weren’t moon-eyed over the new guy you wouldn’t have been in that situation, eh?” the older Horan boy calls out, loud enough it near echoes in the mostly empty arena.

Louis doesn’t dignify that with a response, straightening up and looking to Harry again. He’s turned away slightly so that Louis can only see his profile, but the flush in his cheeks is visible from where he’s stood and he knows that Harry heard.

As if Greg thinks Louis is going to have any shame. If they hadn’t grown up together, he’d think Greg had never met him before in his life.

Taking his near decapitation as a motivator, Louis crosses the distance between them and slides up from behind Harry, their arms brushing. “Hi,” Louis says, turning his cheek. Harry had been tall even from a distance but Louis still hates that he has to look up a bit, his eyes right in line with the tip of Harry’s nose.

“Hello,” Harry says politely, still pink around his cheeks. He’s younger than Louis had realized, probably barely turned eighteen. He’s soft around the hips, Louis notes when he drags his gaze down his chest, taking his time making his way back up. Harry’s flush hasn’t faded but he meets Louis’ gaze head on, something sharp in his eyes.

“How are you enjoying the circus life so far?”

Harry softens, his face relaxing a bit as he sighs. “I’ve only been here a day,” he starts, “but everyone’s been really lovely.”

“Except Greg, I bet.”

Harry laughs at that, the sound coming from deep in his belly. “Greg’s fine,” he insists.

Louis scowls, not even pretending to be good-natured about it. “I’ve known Greg almost me whole life,” he says. “He has never once been ‘fine’ about anything. Total twat.”

Harry giggles a little at that before sobering. “I shouldn’t laugh, they took me in when they didn’t have to.”

Louis nods at that, doesn’t want to push Harry too much their first time interacting. “Need any help?” he asks instead, looking around at the near-completed space.

“Okay,” Harry agrees, starting to walk towards the loading area. Louis follows him. “You didn’t ask me my name,” Harry says as they fall in step.

“You’re the new lad at a _circus_ , mate. Everyone here knows your name. I even know what my sisters call you, ‘Hazza bear’,” Louis teases, enjoying Harry’s crooked grin at that.

A second later, a strange expression crosses his face and he stops walking, staring at Louis. “Your sisters are the twin girls?” he asks.

“Unless more little girls are calling you ‘Hazza bear’ that I don’t know about?”

“I didn’t know you’re one of the Tomlinsons. Greg mentioned the girls and their hair… thing,” he says, seemingly flustered when he can’t think of the word ‘hang’ or maybe doesn’t understand it.

“‘One of the Tomlinsons’?” Louis repeats, cackling and crossing in front of Harry so they’re out of the way, people shuffling past them with the seemingly endless equipment needed to set up the show. “Like the Sopranos? Are we a mob?”

Harry shakes his head, curls bouncing gently with the motion. “No, just that you lot are the, erm,” he pauses, eyes darting to the sides as if he’s trying to think of what to say. “That your mum is the ringleader,” he finally decides.

Louis waits for him to say something else but he stays silent. “So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’?”

“So, what does it matter? We’re not going to kick you out because you talk to us or anything.”

“I just… Greg just said-”

“Greg talks a lot of absolute _shit_ ,” Louis hisses, pushing Harry further out of the way as one of the elephant platforms gets wheeled past. “Let me guess: he said to suck up to the owner and avoid her son?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but the way he bites his bottom lip says enough.

Louis’ pissed, has always disliked Greg and the new information shouldn’t shock him but it does all the same. “Is that why you were nice to my sisters?”

Harry seems taken aback by the question. “Of course not!” Louis narrows his eyes, trying to tell if he’s lying at all. It seems to annoy Harry, and he purses his lips for a second before opening his mouth again. “I try to be nice to everyone, anyway, but name one person who can see two little girls- _twins_ , at that- in their long braids and pretty dresses and _not_ let them braid their hair.”

Louis pauses at that, the words holding a challenge in them. “Harry Styles,” he says slowly, beaming, “do you honestly think most people will let little girls braid their hair?”

Harry’s still stiff around the shoulders but he does smile at that a little. “I would, is all I can say. No matter who their mum is.”

Louis throws an arm over Harry’s shoulder, ignoring how awkward their slight difference makes it. “C’mon, Hazza bear,” he says with a laugh. “You’ve earned the right to meet my cats.”

“Oh, I love cats!” Harry says, tone delighted.

Louis can’t wait to see Harry’s reaction to the size of the “cats” in question.

~*~

It doesn’t disappoint, not even a little.

“Oh, right, you meant this kind of cat.”

Louis keeps his laughter in only a little, giggling despite himself at the shock on Harry’s face. It’s soon replaced with admiration and awe, especially when Louis steps closer.

“Can you get so close to them?” he asks, voice hardly above a whisper.

“They’re my cats,” Louis explains, projecting false bravado. He’d normally never be so blasé, but he’ll inform Harry of the rules in just a moment. He’s enjoying the way Harry’s eyes grow wide as he approaches Kali, her own calm as he steps forward a beat faster than he normally would. “That’s my brilliant girl,” he coos, pausing with his hand out long enough for her to touch her nose to the fence, trying to get closer.

Harry gasps as Louis presses his bare hand right along the wire, Kali closing her eyes and trying to nudge him with her forehead. Louis looks at him over his shoulder, bright pink spots on the apples of his cheeks that look like Lottie’s rouge, they’re so dark.

“There’s another one,” Harry breathes, and Louis turns around in time to watch Devi approach, her strides graceful until she takes the last couple at a gallop, pouncing on her sister and playfully nipping her nape.

Kali doesn’t seem to care, just chuffing slightly as she turns away. Her tail swings and smacks Devi in the face, but Louis can’t honestly say it’s with purpose, though it is entertaining to think so. Devi’s a bit of a slag for attention, rubbing against the fence and encouraging Louis to stick his hand in further to bury his fingers in her coat. He steps back with a laugh, her face turning to watch him as he steps away.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he backs up until he’s next to Harry, the boy still transfixed. “Want to meet them?” he asks, voice quiet and calm when Devi lays on her belly, head on her paws.

“I don’t even know your _name_ and you’re trying to get me closer to a _tiger_?”

“It’s Louis,” he laughs, “and they’re sweet. You have to do everything I say, though, and Devi might not let you touch her just yet. Kali will, if she comes back.”

Harry shakes his head a little, throat clicking as he swallows. “I don’t think I can,” he admits. “I’d probably piss meself.”

“Well, that’s your choice. I won’t make you. But we can try to step a little closer and see how you feel.”

Harry hesitates for so long that Louis almost breaks his staring contest with the tiger to check on him, but he finally exhales in a long sigh. “Okay.”

“Okay as in you want to get closer?” Louis asks, needing to clarify.

“Yes, please. If I piss, though.”

“You won’t,” Louis laughs, grabbing Harry’s wrist in his left hand. “You’re going to do everything I tell you to do.”

He feels Harry nod next to him.

“First step: look her in the eye.”

“But won’t that-” Harry starts and Louis lets his nails sink slightly into the soft underside of Harry’s wrist.

“ _Do. Absolutely. Everything. I. Say_ ,” he hisses. “Or else you’re turning around right now. These cats are too important.”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Sorry, okay. Can I look at her now?”

Louis loosens his grip and nods.

Devi stands when she realizes Harry is looking at her too, her ears flat against her head as she licks her lips. She looks at Louis as if she’s confused, his gaze calming her slightly.

“They are caught by surprise when someone new looks them in the eye, hard-wired to view everything smaller than them as prey. They usually only attack by ambush, so if you look at them, they lose the element of surprise and sometimes lose interest. These two were born in captivity and are the gentlest felids on the team, but they’re still wild animals at heart so we treat them as such until they trust us.” Louis is talking low, Devi’s ears relaxing and flicking forward to catch his voice before they strain back again. “We never forget that they are wild animals and we always remember that we are lucky they work with us.”

“Okay,” Harry says, voice just as soft but an octave lower. Devi looks to him head on, ears forward again.

“You’re going to step forward with me for three small steps, and then I’m going to let go of you and move forward myself. When I tell you it’s okay, you’re going to continue looking in her eyes and follow me forward, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry repeats. “I understand.”

They step forward, Harry correcting his long gait to match Louis’ aborted strides. He counts under his breath and Louis wants to laugh, keeping control as he lets go of Harry and finishes walking to Devi. She seems calm, has always taken to everyone Louis introduces her to, and he presses his hand to the fence again.

She chuffs at him, lifting her paw to bat at his palm and he laughs, loud and bright. Her answering chuff gives him confidence and he speaks again, loud enough that Harry can hear him clearly. “Put your hand out like mine, palm forward, and take the same size steps until you reach my hip. Don’t touch the fence yet but don’t lower your hand, either.”

He hears Harry’s footsteps on the hard dirt, seeing his hand in his peripheral as he approaches. His shoulder draws align with Louis' and he turns his head just a little, taking his eyes off of Devi so she focuses on Harry instead. "Talk to me," he says. "What are her ears doing?"

"They're pricked up, alert. She's twitching them when I talk. Is that good or bad?"

"That's good," Louis assures him. "It means she's interested in what you're saying, she's listening to you. Try talking to her."

Harry breathes out a laugh. "What do I say to a tiger?"

"What you'd say to any animal."

"Hello," Harry tries, a strained but delighted smile on his face. "How are you today?"

"It's like you're talking to someone's Nan, jeeze. Talk to her like you would a toddler, I guess."

"Toddlers can't eat me," Harry reasons. He straightens his shoulders and tries again. "Your coat is so pretty, such a nice colour orange. I rather like your stripes."

Louis laughs, always enjoys introducing people to the animals. He can't wait until Harry meets Chandaa; she's over-excited when meeting strangers and has knocked over plenty of people who didn't know how to brace against her curious trunk.

His laughter sets Harry off, and they giggle together for a moment until Devi, clearly comfortable with the newcomer now that Louis is laughing so heartily, lets out a friendly roar. Harry gasps, something that sounds like a shout dying in his throat, but he keeps his hand steady. Louis' proud of him.

"How's your bladder?" he teases, reaching up for Harry’s hand and lowering it. Harry is breathing hard but seems relaxed next to Louis' side, even as Kali responds to her sister's call and lopes over.

"She'll be easier; once one of them accepts you, the other one typically does as well," Louis assures him.

"What are their names again?"

Louis laces his fingers with Harry’s and pulls him forward the last couple inches to the fence. He presses their joined hands against the wire, Devi nosing Kali away and sniffing their joined hands. "The bigger one is Devi and the other is Kali. They're littermates and were bred by someone who didn't have the capacity to care for any big felids, let alone a litter."

"That's terrible," Harry says, giggling when Kali pushes Devi away a bit and licks their hands. She narrows her eyes and Louis feels Harry stiffen once again.

"It's okay, I promise. Tigers only narrow their eyes when they're comfortable. They're trusting you enough to lose some of their vision."

"That's amazing," Harry says. "You're amazing, aren't you?" Kali seems to like his voice, eyes closed almost entirely as she nudges their hands.

"Do you want to pet her back?"

Harry nods and Louis turns to face forward again. "Alright, spoilt," he laughs, getting her attention. He lets go of Harry’s hand, pressing it against the fence so he'll leave it there and lifting his own above his head. She watches as he sticks out two fingers pointing left. She rolls her head in the direction he's pointing but she knows better so Louis stomps his foot in the dirt. "Do it for real," he says, stern.

With an honest _huff_ , she follows instructions, shifting her whole body until she is facing left, her right side against the fence. Louis presses his free hand through the crisscrossed wires, fisting his hand in her neck and pulling just enough for her to feel it, letting her go and repeating the action until she’s kneading her front paws in the ground like a house cat.

“Go ahead and slip your hand in next to mine,” Louis says, smiling when Harry follows instructions immediately. He hovers his hand over her coat for a moment, waiting until Louis nods before running his hand along the fur.

The touch is light but Kali knows it’s there, ears flicking again at the feel. Louis keeps his muscles relaxed, ready to yank Harry’s hand back the second her head turns, but she doesn’t shift position at all, allowing the touch.

“You can bury your hand in her fur a bit more, get closer to the skin. If she lifts her head quickly, slip your hand out. I think she’s calm enough for you to pet her awhile, though.”

“Okay.”

Louis keeps an eye on Kali’s head the entire time, so he doesn’t get to see Harry’s face when he spreads his fingers and sinks them into her coat. He can imagine the way it looks, though, and enjoys the way Harry’s arm is warm against his own, everywhere they are touching turning hot.

Eventually, Louis leaves Kali alone, whispering for Harry to take his hand out and watching him do so. Louis keeps patting at her scruff for a moment, speaking to her in a low tone that she listened so well and was such a good girl. Finally, though, he too drops his hand and steps back. He claps his hands together twice so she knows she doesn’t have to hold the position anymore. She doesn’t move much, just shifts so she isn’t against the fence anymore and can turn to look at him.

“Marvellous girl,” Harry says next to him. Louis finally turns his head to look at Harry, the brightness in his eyes almost too much to handle.

“It’s like you’ve fallen in love with her,” he jokes, wanting to make Harry laugh so they can back away.

Harry doesn’t, though, just turns to look at him for a second before looking back at the tiger. “I think I may have, Lou.”

Louis can’t explain all of the different kinds of delight he feels when Harry says that, and he bites his lip around a smile before facing forward again. Devi is in the far corner of their pen, watching them with a bored expression as her tail flicks away stray flies. “Laugh with me,” he tells Harry. “They like the sound, it reassures them I think.”

Bless his actual heart, Harry doesn’t pause for a moment. He near-cackles, eyes closed and head tilted back. The sound makes Louis laugh genuinely, and Kali chuffs back at them before stalking away. When their laughter quiets, Louis grabs Harry gently above the elbow and leads him away.

“We’ll do the others another day,” he says softly, nodding at Bobby and Mark where they’re stood, clearly having witnessed what Louis was doing. He’s sure that he sees disappointment in Mark’s eyes but he doesn’t think he did anything wrong. He knows the cats better than anyone else on the tour and they all know it, too.

“What others?” Harry asks, voice still with a dreamy lilt to it.

“The lions and elephants.”

“You can introduce me to them, too?”

Louis looks at Harry, bemused. “I can show you anything here,” he explains slowly, a soft smile returning to his face when Harry beams.

“I love elephants,” he says.

“Okay. We’ll go see the elephants tomorrow then. What are you doing tonight?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to look confused. “What do you mean?”

Waving his hand around once they reach the backstage area, he tries again. “During the show. Everyone does something, what are you doing?”

“Oh,” Harry says, some of the tiger joy fading from his eyes and being replaced with worry. “No one’s given me a job. Mr. Horan didn’t say what I should do after I help set up. Which, I probably shouldn’t have left unfinished.”

Harry’s face falls and Louis feels bad for the laugh he lets loose at that. “Oh, Hazza bear,” he sighs, leaning against Harry’s side, “you really don’t understand the perks of being my friend.”

“We’re friends?”

Louis rolls his eyes and then pulls back to do it again, this time so Harry can see. “Nope, not friends. I only let you meet two of the show’s biggest stars. If you think everyone gets to do that on their first day here, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He strolls away from Harry at that, pausing before he gets too far and turning around. Harry’s stood exactly where Louis left him, and the way he jerks his head up when Louis spins around is enough proof that he’d just been checking out Louis’ arse. Smirking, he calls out, “if you can’t think of anything else to do, we can always put you in a booth and let the little ones braid your hair.”

“It might actually come to that, I wouldn’t make light of it. I’m going to sink the whole show.”

“I doubt that,” Louis calls back, turning on his heel again and continuing to walk away. “I really doubt that.”

~*~

The show goes on, as it always does. Louis is too busy with the cats to worry about Harry, leading Baruti back from the pre-performance when he refuses to play nicely with Aslan.

“Be nice to him, he’s an old man and doesn’t have time for your shit,” Louis sing-songs as he leads the red-maned lion back to the pen enclosure. Baruti doesn’t seem to care, swishing his head around when Louis slips off his chain. “Oh, you’re sassy today, mister,” he laughs. “We were going to play football in the show, too. Bet you’re mad you’re missing that.”

At the word ‘football’, Baruti turns to look at him. He stares at Louis for a moment before ducking his head and moving forward, looking around Louis’ feet as if he’s going to find a ball.

“Nope, no games for you,” Louis says, walking away. He ignores the cat galloping next to him, needing to teach him manners. Baruti doesn’t seem interested, though, nuzzling Louis’ open palm until Louis deigns to pet him, burying his hand in his mane and giving him a hug.

“Be good and we’ll play tomorrow,” he promises, backing away slowly and waving goodbye.

Baruti is less than impressed, turning his back on Louis and sitting on the ground so he can’t see him. Louis rolls his eyes and locks the gate behind him, looping a chain around the posts and securing it. He nods to the one of the men that’s always on duty when there’s active cats in the enclosure, Alberto nodding at him as he walks away.

Instead of Baruti, they bring Nia into the show. She isn’t as well-trained as the others, but she does love sport, will bat the ball around with her paws and plays nicely with the other cats. The crowd loves it, roots for Aslan and Nia over Louis and the tigresses, especially once Mark announces they are father and daughter. The venue is a little smaller than some, not really suited for football, but they like to keep things light and simple after any amount of travel so they make do. Eventually, Kali tires of playing with the ball, laying down on the ground and letting out a roar.

The audience loves it, clapping when she’s done, and Louis stops his game, lifting a hand in the air with his palm facing the ground, making a circular motion with his pointer finger. At once, the three cats still standing turn in a circle, and Louis does it again and again until Kali acknowledges him. Always a drama queen, though, she doesn’t stand up and turn. Instead, she rolls over on her back, ending on her belly again before standing and crossing over to Louis.

He sends Kali and Devi to their platforms, turns them around so they can face the crowd. He wouldn’t always, but there’s a group of kids in front of their spots and the tigresses are both suckers for kids, always entertained by the smaller, laughing humans. Sure enough, as he’s ordering Nia away and she’s ignoring him, he hears the housecat-like meowing the girls start up. Interested, Nia heads over to them and jumps onto her elevated platform, slightly higher than the others’ to show off her remarkable size. She doesn’t make any sounds but watches the audience with amusement.

With the girls in place, Louis leads Aslan through an obstacle course. It’s set up similar to how a dog’s would be, but it’s proportionally much larger. Aslan goes through his paces like the pro he is, jumping onto platforms and over hurdles, sliding on his belly under a low bar and, finally, walking up the large ‘Pride Rock’-styled piece, standing in the front and giving his best roar.

Louis’ laughing and clapping for him, the audience doing the same, but one member of the team is decidedly uninterested in being a background star. Nia, investigating her father’s roar, jumps down from her platform gracefully and takes off. Louis’ startled, isn’t sure of her intentions, but when he sees Preston on the outskirt of the arena making his way to the power hose, he frantically shakes his head.

“Let her be,” he calls out. “She’s not agitated, let’s see what she does.”

Preston gets to the hose and gets it prepped if needed, but he holds back like Louis had asked. Louis and the audience watch in fascination as she gracefully runs the same path her father had, taking the hurdles like they’re nothing. She hops over the low bar but Louis can’t blame her- she’s much too large to fit under it anyway. She bounds up the back ramp, emerging through the opening and pacing up to Aslan, who couldn’t be bothered by her presence at all. He sniffs and nuzzles her face affectionately, letting her stand in the front.

“Are you going to roar for us?” Louis shouts. She looks down at him, no more than ten feet high, but doesn’t know the command yet. “Aslan Almighty!” Louis calls out, affecting his deep, presenter voice. “Would you do us a kindness and tell us your thoughts?”

The perfect performer- as always- Aslan grunts deep in his throat for a few seconds until he works up another roar, Nia answering his instinctively.

“Do you girls want to go up there?” Louis asks the tigresses. They’re not paying him any mind, and he isn’t sure the structure would hold them all anyway, so he lets them be and encourages first Aslan and then Nia to return to him.

He can see Mark’s face from where he’s stood next to Preston, full of rage like Louis hasn’t ever seen. He doesn’t understand how Mark could be upset, but he corrals the cats around him and has them do their ‘thank you’ bows, even Nia dipping her head on cue. He takes Aslan by himself, roping a chain around his neck to lead him out of the arena.

Almost immediately after he’s away from the stage lights, Bobby is in front of him. “You better give me him, Mark’s pretty angry.”

Louis bites his lip and nods, handing over the chain and patting Aslan on the back gently.

He steps aside and lets the others pass, Nia requiring two handlers because of her size and lack of training. When they’re gone, he doesn’t need to go far to find his step dad, Mark already behind him and pulling Louis away. He’s not surprised when they end up in an office backstage, empty save for them.

“What exactly were you doing out there? You let Nia get away with too much today.”

“Oh, she wasn’t aggressive, she was playing!”

“She’s a wild, untrained animal who needs constant vigilance.”

“It was just some fun,” Louis shrugs, honestly not understanding the point.

Mark sighs, pulling back and running his hand over his face. “I know you like to bill yourself as some wonderful cat whisperer but the truth, Louis, is that you’re nothing special. Countless people have befriended big felids. You’ve got a knack for keeping them happy, but you’re not a trainer. You don’t get them to listen to you.”

Stung, Louis flushes. He’s never billed himself as a trainer, but to hear Mark say that he’s nothing special hurts. He never wanted to be special, not in any way, but he _knows_ he’s better with the cats than the other team members. It doesn’t make him special, it’s just a fact.

“I train them all of the time,” he says, not even trying to argue but he’s feeling caught off-guard.

“You teach them _tricks_ , Louis, not behaviour. We can’t let Nia in the shows anymore if she starts to think she can do whatever she wants.”

“She can though!” Louis insists. “We don’t use whips or punishments or anything, we get them to do things because that’s what they also want to do.”

“Because we’ve _trained_ them to do things and we use reward systems and reinforcement. We don’t let a wild animal around a huge mob like that with no sense of authority.” Mark stops, face red from his quick speech and flared temper. He sighs and lets his shoulders drop. “I’m not saying any of this to hurt you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Louis cuts him off.

“Louis, come on,” Mark tries but Louis doesn’t want to hear it anymore. He storms away from his stepdad, the knowledge that he looks like a toddler in a tantrum only fueling his anger even further.

He’s almost surprised by the amount of people outside when he exits the building, the arena letting out for the night. Groups mosey through the outside booths and entertainers, and Louis sees a familiar head of curls in front of him. Knowing he should leave Harry alone- he should just go to his bunk and sleep away his anger- he comes up behind Harry.

“Hey,” he says to Harry’s back. Louis hadn’t been paying close attention, and he startles Harry more than he thought he would. It’s only then that Louis realizes Harry has been juggling for a group of kids, and he would feel bad that Harry messes up but he and the kids are all laughing about it so Louis does as well.

“Hi,” Harry says once he’s recovered the apples he’s been tossing around. “Kids, do you know who this guy is?” Harry asks, turning his head to look at the four children near them, all around seven or eight years old.

“He’s the lion guy!” one of the boys says, ginger hair and dark freckles on his cheeks.

“He did so well, don’t you guys think?” They all chorus an agreement and one of the little girls steps forward.

“Are they mean?”

Louis shakes his head immediately. “They’re all very nice,” he says, throat sore from the sting of tears he’d felt previously. “They’re just wild animals so we have to play by their rules sometimes, too.”

“Like when the big one went by her daddy?” she asks, smiling when Louis nods.

A couple sets of parents come by and grab their kids, telling Louis what a great job he had done. Louis thanks them all, smiling wide until they’re gone and then he collapses into Harry’s side. “Ugh, Hazza,” he groans. “Can today just be over?”

“You did so, so well in there!” Harry gushes again, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist when he presses more of his weight into Harry.

“Still managed to make Mark angry, though,” he bitches.

“Why’s he upset?”

Louis rolls his eyes and then closes them, pulling away from Harry and standing on his own two feet. “He says I’m a glorified trickster with them, not a proper trainer.” He keeps his eyes closed for a moment more, not wanting to see Harry’s expression. He knows it is most likely full of pity, and that is an emotion Louis wants nothing to do with. “Anyway,” he says, speaking loud and turning around. He opens his eyes, the bright lights of the booths making his eyes hurt as they grow damp again. “Back to your juggling, clown.”

Harry laughs behind him and Louis risks one look over his shoulder, crossing his eyes before bounding away in search of Niall or Liam- someone with enough experience with him to know not to ask questions and get the kettle on and comics out.

~*~

The next morning, Louis is feeling a lot better. Mark finds him quickly, apologizing again for being short with him. “I got scared,” he admits. “If anything happened to you because I brought you into this life, I’d never forgive myself.”

Louis nods and goes easily when Mark holds his arms out for a hug. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t forget myself like that.”

“You’re not a big cat trainer _yet_ ,” Mark stresses, “but I have never seen anyone have that kind of camaraderie with these animals. You have a gift, Louis, and I trust you with them implicitly. You know that, right?”

“It’s nice to hear it, I guess.”

Mark laughs and lets Louis pull back. “Want to come sit with Baruti? He’s been a right pain in me arse all night since he missed out on the sport.”

Louis agrees, excitement building as they get closer. He hadn’t said his goodnights to the cats after their performance and he doesn’t like missing their routine. Devi gives him the cold shoulder as expected, but Baruti is excited to see him, rubbing his whole body against Louis’ side in greeting.

“Hi, you big oaf,” he says, running his palms along his reddish mane. “Can you play nicely with Aslan today?” As if he’s answering, Baruti steps back and sits on his haunches, lifting a front paw and licking it with a disdainful expression. “You’re truly awful,” Louis teases, sitting on the ground with his legs in a ‘V’ and his hands behind his back.

He looks over his shoulder when he hears Mark call out to him. “We’re going to put Aslan in, see how they behave. Do you want to come out?” He gets to his feet and shakes his head, moving so he’s stood next to Baruti with a hand in his mane.

“I’ll stay, they’re just being jerks. I’m not worried.”

Mark looks like he wants to protest but he bites his tongue, turning away. A moment later, Aslan is led into the enclosure and Mark lifts the chain over his head, dropping the lead onto the dirt ground and encouraging him to step further. Louis feels Baruti’s shoulders tense and he steps away, walking calmly until he can press his back against the fence. Mark comes up behind him and they watch Aslan approach the younger male, his head and shoulders held high. Baruti crouches down, his chin near the dirt and his tail in the air, pouncing when Aslan in closer.

Louis can hear Mark swear behind him, voice low when he asks Louis if he wants out. Louis shakes his head again, firm. “I’m staying,” he says as he watches the cats fight in front of him. If they weren’t so large and loud with their snarling, it’d be almost comical: they’re both sat back on their haunches with their front paws off the ground, smacking each other in the face like they are reenacting a stereotypical ‘girl fight’. Aslan’s large paw gets Baruti clear in the jaw and the younger, darker lion over-balances, landing hard on his side. Immediately, Aslan is over him; his mouth on Baruti’s jaw as he uses the threat of his teeth and his upper body to pin Baruti on his back with his paws in the air.

Baruti kicks with his back legs a few times, catching the bottom of Aslan’s chin, but he goes limp after a moment, tail flat on the ground and paws relaxed. Aslan holds on for a moment longer before he lets go, stalking around Baruti in a circle once as if he’s confirming he has the younger male’s attention. When he’s certain that he does, he tosses his head back and roars, loud and long.

Nia answers from her enclosure, her call still musical and young compared to her father’s, and Louis lets out a relieved breath. Mark answers with one of his own and they look at each other, nervous giggles falling from their lips before Mark comes into the enclosure with him and they approach the lions. Aslan’s let Baruti stand again, the two of them nuzzling their cheeks together and licking at each other’s jaws.

“Now you two are going to act like a couple of lovebirds?” Louis teases, the lions coming over to them and nosing at them playfully. Their adrenaline is still pumping, and they body-check Louis and Mark harder than normal, knocking them near off their feet.

“I’ll ride you like a horse,” Louis warns as he stumbles, feet sliding on the dirt. Baruti just bounces around him, pawing the ground and grumbling good-naturedly.

“What do you have in mind for tonight’s show?” Mark asks.

“Nia needs a break, that’s clear,” Louis allows. “We could give Chandaa a break from elephant rides, have her paint a bit or bring Jalini in and have them do their music together.”

Mark nods at the suggestion, bracing himself against Aslan’s over-eager onslaught of attention. He rubs his mane along Mark’s body, Louis’ stepdad coughing as he gets a mouthful of fur. “You’re a jerk and you need a bath,” he jokes, burying his hands in his mane and steering him away.

“Not it,” Louis calls out immediately, staying on the ground when Baruti successfully knocks him down, letting the big cat crawl on top of him and settle his weight over Louis’ waist. “Not a bloody housecat,” he wheezes. Baruti doesn’t seem to care.

Mark slaps Aslan on the hindquarter to get his attention, shooing the lion off and into a run around the enclosure. Baruti follows, remembering to get off of Louis carefully before giving chase.

“Why don’t you get Bobby?” Mark asks. “Baruti’s got a cut on his jaw he’ll need fixed.”

Louis nods and does as he was asked, pausing near the gate to let the lions pass before he slips out. He finds Bobby easily- the vet tech seemingly everywhere all at once- and conveys Mark’s message, watching him grab his supplies and head off. Niall’s harder to find, though Louis had just seen him during their usual morning routine.

He finds Niall with his brother and Liam, the three of them running through their three-person ‘Wheel of Death’ routine. Liam’s shirtless and Louis spends a few minutes entertained with the way Niall’s eyes constantly flicker to Liam’s glistening chest.

They stop eventually, using their weight to balance the wheels and climb out. Louis claps for them, whistling loud and wild to make Liam and Niall grin and come over. Always in a bad mood, Greg frowns and storms away.

“Eh, ignore him,” Niall shrugs, clearly unconcerned. “He’s been a right tit since Harry came to stay with us anyway, since he had to give up his bunk.

“There’s always room on mine,” Louis says with an exaggerated leer.

“Haz _was_ talking about you quite a bit last night. Can’t believe you used the cats to get a lad.”

“I did no such thing,” Louis protests. “He was nice to the twins and I wanted to reward him for that. It’s not easy-”

“ _Growing up in the circus_ ,” Niall and Liam say in chorus, biting their lips against smiles.

“Yeah, mock it all you’d like but you lot should know better than anyone. It’s nice to feel normal sometimes.”

“Oh, Lou,” Liam says as they head to the arena, “we know how you feel about it, we’re just teasing.”

Louis grumbles a bit more because it gets Liam to tug him tighter to his chest. He winks at Niall though the Irish lad seems unbothered, crowding against Louis’ other side and squeezing him between them.

“Alright, alright,” Louis groans, trying to get out from the middle before they pierce his internal organs. “You win, I showed Harry the cats because I was trying to impress him.”

“You were?” And that’s not Niall or Liam he hears. The three of them stop, spinning on their heels in near-unison and facing Harry. He’s delightfully pink-cheeked, his hair in tight curls from the humidity.

“Were what?” Niall asks, taking one for the team and acting brilliantly dumb.

“You, erm, you were trying to impress me?” he asks, staring at Louis.

Louis shrugs, looking at his feet before bringing his eyes back to Harry’s. “Maybe, a bit,” he admits.

“Oh.” Harry stays quiet for a moment- long enough that even Liam gets restless beside him. “Well,” he starts again. “Well, if you were- _since_ you were, I should let you know it worked. Erm, a bit.”

Niall’s cackle behind him is enough to have Louis’ face burn even brighter, and he resists the urge to murder Niall with his bare hands. “Anyway. Bye,” he bites out, turning away from Harry and steering Liam and Niall away- both of them openly laughing now.

~*~

Only the tigresses are in the show that night in an effort to give the other cats a break so Louis sits out. They perform generic circus tricks, jumping through lit hoops and over each other’s backs, sitting back on their haunches and raising their front paws in the air on command. The cats don’t love these tricks- much prefer the more relaxing sports nights- but they follow directions easily and without argument.

The backstage is dark where he’s waiting to receive Devi when she’s finished, Kali staying back to do water tricks with the elephants. Devi’s too spirited to be in shows with Jalini; the way to two of them play is destructive as it usually involves chasing each other around with blatant disregard for anything or anyone in their way.

He leads her away with a loose lead, the cheers from the crowd getting louder as Jalini and Chandaa are led in through a separate tunnel. Devi goes easily into the enclosure when he puts her in with Nia on a whim. He waits for a moment, watching as Devi heads to the far corner, collapsing down next to Nia in the dirt with her head on her front paws. He leaves them be, nodding to Preston who is on duty tonight.

For a brief moment, he debates going back into the arena but the aerial acrobats are on next and that act has been too painful for Louis to watch for years, so he winds his way through the circus goers who haven’t paid for the big top but are enjoying the booth games instead. Harry’s walking through the crowd as well, using devil sticks tonight. The people around him are fascinated the way the children had been the night before, and he convinces some of the parents to buy smaller, rubber-tipped sticks for their kids. He crouches down, showing them all how to swing around the batons and Louis’ heart melts.

He walks away before he can be caught staring.

~*~

“All I’m saying is: you’re going about this the same way you usually do,” Niall tells Louis a few days later, when they’re packing up the animals for the trip to the next town. They’ll be in Birmingham for two weeks, then Cheltenham, Oxford and Marlborough a weekend each before they take up their London residency until after Christmas. Louis loves performing in London, the three weeks on, two weeks off pattern for the rest of summer and most of autumn until the holiday season when they’re on every day Wednesday through Sunday.

Fantasizing about the big city crowds and calculating when Nia will be ready for full-time work, Louis takes a moment to respond to Niall’s jabs. “The way I usually do what?” he asks, trying to remember what Niall’s been rambling about.

“The way you usually ‘seduce’,” Niall says, closing Aslan’s cage and using actual air quotes.

Louis rolls his eyes, spreading hay in Nia’s crate as Niall steps to the rear of the truck bed and raises the latch for the shutters, the top quarter of the van’s sides opening up to let in light. Aslan grunts in his crate, settling in. Baruti is already asleep in his, a mild dose of tranquilizers calming him for the journey.

“I don’t ‘seduce’ just because I like to hook up. S’not my fault I’ve been raised with you lot and have to turn to newbies to get by.”

“S’not so bad, this lot,” Niall says, voice soft as he undoubtedly thinks of Liam. Louis would tease him but he almost can’t make light of the situation anymore, it switches from cute to sad and back again every day. It only gets worse when Liam makes soft eyes in Niall’s direction as well, the two of them completely clueless. “Anyway,” Niall says, stepping out of the way when Mark leads Nia in, the liger calm from the same medicine as Baruti. “I wish you’d go about it a different way.”

“Do you always talk this much shit? I’ve no idea what you’re on about.”

“Aye,” Niall nods, walking out the van with Louis before Bobby and Alberto lead in Kali and Devi. “You’ve never let yourself mourn your last relationship, you just flit from lad to lad. You’re gonna have a hole in yer heart the rest o’ yer life if you keep this up.”

Louis stiffens and he knows Niall can tell, but he bites his lip and keeps walking forward silently.

“Lou, I’m not trying to make you angry, s’just that-”

“It’s just that,” Louis cuts him off, “I’ve asked you repeatedly to not mention him and yet you always do.”

“Because you need closure,” Niall insists.

“How the bloody fuck am I supposed to get closure when he’s a thousand miles away?” Louis is breathing hard when he’s done shouting, the workers around them getting quieter and moving slower in an obvious ploy to eavesdrop.

“Lou, we’re just concerned.”

“Oh, who the hell is ‘we’? You and Liam been comparing notes on me? You and Greg been talking shite behind me back?” He keeps his voice low but he doesn’t know how much it matters: word will get around throughout the company within the hour that he and Niall had a row. Or are having one, present tense, if Niall keeps pushing.

“Liam and I are both worried about you, yes.”

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, heading around the corner to the horse stalls.

Niall gets called back by Bobby, but he pauses for a moment and levels Louis a look. “You’re fine for the most part,” he concedes. “But the way you are with lads now isn’t fine. You break their hearts, Louis. All because one lad broke yours?”

“They all leave,” he says, ignoring the question. “People think it’s fucking _glamorous_ , running away to the circus. They stick around a few weeks and then they leave. I don’t need to get involved any further than I do.”

Niall opens his mouth to say something- who knows what- but Bobby calls out for him again. He turns away with a terse, “we’re not done with this.” Louis rolls his eyes and continues to the barn, something buzzing in his blood.

The buzzing only gets louder when he sees Harry in the stalls, forking hay into wheelbarrows for disposal. He clears his throat and Harry turns away from the conversation he’d been having with Liam, the smile on his face growing wider when he sees Louis.

“Hey,” he says, leaning the pitchfork on the wall and stepping closer. “Do you need me for anything?”

“Erm, yes,” Louis says immediately, jumping on the chance. “I need your help with a… thing, you need to come with me.”

Liam makes a face at him over Harry’s shoulder and Louis make one right back when Harry steps over to the faucet on the barn wall, pumping some soap into his hands and scrubbing them and his forearms clean.

Louis grabs his bicep when he’s finished, tugging Harry’s arm until he moves as quickly as Louis is.

“Where are we going?” Harry asks, laughing loud. Louis doesn’t answer, just keeps pulling him away from the barn. Louis drags him around the permanent booth stands on the edge of the grounds, entering the maze of campers and motor coaches that make up their residential quarters. There’s quite a few gone, but it still takes them a minute to make their way through to his coach. “I think you made up having something for me to do,” Harry teases after a second.

Louis doesn’t argue, imagining the frown on his face when he thinks about neglecting his duties. He keeps pulling at Harry’s arm until they’re in the very heart of the maze, where no one will think to look for them. They can hide away here for a bit, at least. He leans back against one of the coaches, grabbing Harry’s hands and pulling him in close. “Hi,” he says, faking a smile and looking up at Harry with wide eyes, knowing how he looks right now and how he can wrap fit lads around his finger. Sure enough, Harry’s gaze drops to Louis’ mouth for a moment, licking his lips when he meets his eyes again.

“What are we doing?” Harry asks in a breath, the space between their bodies closing as he sways forward almost unconsciously.

“I hope you’re not honestly unaware,” he smirks, hands settling on Harry’s hips and feeling the soft give of lingering baby fat over his bones.

Harry’s flushing dark in the faint morning light, Louis’ words serving as a bit of a challenge that he answers by shuffling his feet a half-step forward, pressing them both closer to the coach. Louis sighs and tilts his head back, lips parted and silently begging to be kissed. Harry complies immediately, both of his hands going to the back of Louis’ neck, large palms cupping his skin and angling his head so their lips slide together, quick, closed-mouth kisses driving Louis crazy.

“Harry,” he breathes out on a sigh, trying to coax his lips open after with a teasing little flicker of his tongue. Harry doesn’t, though, pressing firmer kisses to Louis’ mouth and jawline, thumbs brushing along the tendons in his neck.

“Come inside,” Louis says, sharp like an order. “Come lay down with me.”

Harry nods at first, but then he pulls back for a breath and shakes his head. “I don’t think I can… I shouldn’t be doing this.”

The only thing keeping Louis from despairing at his words is the look of complete disappointment on Harry’s face, his eyes focused on Louis’ mouth. “You can,” he offers instead, rolling his hips against Harry’s in a tease. “You should.”

For all that he can boss around a 500 pound liger, he can’t sway Harry’s mind, and the younger lad steps away slowly. “I’m sorry,” Harry says, biting his bottom lip and meeting Louis’ eye again.

“Ugh, go away then,” Louis bites out, trying to make it sound like a joke but he sees when Harry hears the snap in his voice anyway.

“Is everything okay?”

Louis sighs. This isn’t Harry’s cross to bear- doesn’t deserve Louis crying to him about how his ex-boyfriend left him with almost no warning- so he just shrugs and forces a laugh. Like with the cats, it calms Harry, his shoulders dropping and a small smile growing on his lips. “Just fancied a bit of a snog with an interested lad. Sorry if I got it wrong.”

Harry’s flush is back at those words, the colour starting in his cheeks and spreading slowly down his neck. “You didn’t,” he starts, shaking his head. “You didn’t get it wrong. Just, erm, maybe not right now? Like,” he laughs, pushing a hand through his long hair, “maybe not when I’m supposed to be working.”

“It’s a circus, Haz,” Louis says, his smile more real as he turns to the door into the coach. “We’re always supposed to be working.” He lifts up onto the bottom step, turning back around. Harry’s stepped closer to him, their height difference reversed. Louis knows he’s pushing, knows he should respect what Harry had said, but he can’t help reaching out and thumbing at Harry’s chin, leading him forward gently and bringing their lips together again.

Harry doesn’t pull back, kissing Louis back with gentle purses of his lips. He stays completely still otherwise until Louis ends the kiss and heads into his bus, letting the door close behind him. Louis lets himself imagine he’s in a harlequin romance novel for a long moment: pictures Harry bursting through the door and lifting Louis into his arms, stumbling back to the bunks and bruising each other’s skin with their lips.

After his brief fantasy, he lets reality sink in and watches Harry turn and walk away. He takes the correct turn out of the centre of the maze, and Louis groans and heads to his bunk, pulling the pillow over his head and ignoring the sounds when, a half hour later, Liam and Niall pile onto the bus in a blatant move to keep him company.

They leave him alone for now, the sound of the telly in the back starting up just before the engine starts and Paddy drives them away. “On to bloody Birmingham,” Louis mutters to himself, tugging the pillow down tighter around his skull until he falls asleep.

~*~

Birmingham is passing in a flurry of activity. From the moment of their arrival, Louis barely has time to _wink_ at Harry, let alone steal him away to continue learning the taste of his lips. If Louis isn’t active in the shows, he’s running Nia through her paces so she’ll be ready for London. Mark is trusting him with supplemental training: an hour or so in the evening to solidify the progress she had made during morning sessions with Mark and Preston.

Louis takes the responsibility seriously, keeping her responsive and using positive and negative reinforcements in turn. She’s really amazing to work with: incredibly intelligent and genuinely interested in the tricks she’s learning. He works with her every day for the first week, his bones tired from mornings spent helping where needed, and he only sees Harry once in the whole time. He’s got his hair pulled back in a bun, thick and full with too-short face-framing pieces falling around his eyes. It reminds Louis of his ex so quickly that he feels shocked, and he practically runs away before Harry can see him.

He doesn’t admit to Niall that he may have had a point about needing closure, but he does avoid Harry for a few days, staying away from the crowds as much as possible and declining invitations from the lads to go for drinks.

~*~

Life in the circus is nothing like in the movies. Louis understands why teenagers run away to the circus- the bright lights and stage draws extroverts and introverts alike, the former exalting in the spotlight and the latter finding purpose in the background. His ex had been the former, taking to aerial acrobatics like it was his native tongue. The first time Louis had seen him had been in a trial run before the show, a fit lad with jet black hair and a crooked smile lifted high in the air and spinning in silks.

Niall had known him first, was the one who had introduced them, and Louis hadn’t been able to resist the boy’s charm. Out of all the performers they had in the company, he shone the brightest by far. Watching him in the shows, near-naked skin slipping through gorgeous double silk sheets of every colour, was like being set on fire for Louis: it was only a matter of time before their friendship turned into something more, something found between the decidedly less expensive sheets in Louis’ bunk, something that had them talking about the future and forever.

The first clue he should have picked up one was all the talk about how his ex dreaded getting a corporate job, how nothing could ever be as freeing after one was in the circus. Louis should have known then that his ex wasn’t sticking around but he’d been dick drunk and in love.

But the bright lights that excite outsiders were the only life Louis had known, and he couldn’t leave his family and his cats behind. His ex had cried when Louis told him in no uncertain terms that he was staying with his family, and he’d been gone the next morning when Louis woke up to an empty bed and more of his jumpers missing than not.

~*~

Monday night, Niall finally convinces Louis to come to the pub with them. They hadn’t had a performance that day, so there’s an unusual lack of things to do. He’d already scrubbed his motor coach clean earlier in the day, and he’s slightly sore around his biceps and shoulders. Niall takes advantage of the way the weekend had run him down- how it always runs them all down- and coaxes him into joining their group outing.

In retrospect, he probably should have skipped tonight, as well. The last time he’d been this drunk, Niall had gotten his hands on absinthe and he, Louis and his ex had all crowded together on Louis’ bus, taking a straight shot each because they’d all been too stupid to know they could dilute it first.

He and Niall are laughing over that night, all of them getting so sick they’d missed the next day’s show and the day after’s as well, when Harry and Liam come in to the bar. Louis keeps laughing as they approach and crowd around their already packed table. Harry takes a seat between Louis and Greg, and Louis plasters himself to Harry’s side immediately.

“Haz, I’m _drunk_ ,” he confides, still laughing into Harry’s shoulder.

“I see that.” Louis lifts his head and smiles at Harry. Harry’s pretty, he’s so, so pretty. Pretty green eyes that don’t remind him of his ex at all. Louis bites his lip to remind himself not to say any of his thoughts out loud. “You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” Harry says.

Louis’ shaking his head almost before Harry’s done speaking. “I shan’t,” he replies, sitting up straighter and shimmying his shoulders just a bit. His fingers find their way to his hair without conscious thought, pulling at his fringe and fixing it so it’s laying across his forehead the way he prefers. Harry’s eyes are tracking the movement, and Louis takes advantage of the chance to watch Harry’s mouth. His bottom lip is plump and so, so pink and Louis digs his teeth sharper into his own to resist pushing forward and bringing their mouths together.

He’s swaying a bit in his seat, and Harry’s large hand comes up to steady him. “Careful there,” he warns, palm hot through Louis’ t-shirt.

With effort, he lets his bottom lip go, tonguing over the swell as if to check for teeth marks. “God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he breathes out, still staring at Harry’s mouth. And, oops, he thinks. That’s why he was trying to not speak.

Harry laughs, practically a cackle as he squints his eyes closed and opens his mouth wide, the hand on Louis’ shoulder going to his face as if to shove the sound back in but it’s too late and Louis’ even further endeared than he’d been.

“Shouldn’t laugh at compliments, Harold,” Louis admonishes teasingly, tongue thick in his mouth and trailing on the final ‘s’. “Should return the favour.”

“Oh, Lou,” Harry says, taking his hand away and tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “You know you’re gorgeous, I don’t need to tell you.”

“Can’t hurt,” Louis says, and he’d blame all of this on being drunk but, in reality, he’s a complete slag for compliments and is proud of himself he hasn’t forced any out of Harry before today. He raises his eyebrows, looking at Harry expectantly. For his part, Harry’s grin get soft and he puts both of his hands on Louis’ knees, his fingers so long they brush against him mid-thigh.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, in a way that transcends nature,” Harry starts, clearly holding in giggles. “Mother Nature herself sculpted your cheekbones with the same water that carved the Grand Canyon. Your eyes are the colour of Morpho butterflies, an electric blue found nowhere else in the world. Your mouth is-”

“Okay, we get it,” Niall shouts from Louis’ other side. Louis startles, having forgotten that the others were still there. He shifts in his seat and looks at Niall, trying for a threatening expression but his eyes are hooded and he doesn’t think he pulls it off.

“That was quite rude, _Neil_ , now poor Harry is going to have to start over again.” He turns back to Harry primly, smiling again when he sees the still-silent giggles shaking his shoulders. “You started with my cheekbones.”

He lifts his hand to cover his mouth again, and Louis hears the others around the table laughing as well but he is drunk enough to not care. “Why don’t you two just go?” Greg mutters. “Everyone else is having a good time until you two started making us uncomfortable.”

Liking the idea, Louis stands as if to leave, but he sways dangerously close to Harry and only the younger lad’s hands on his hips steady him. Louis giggles as he sits back down. “Piss off, nosey parker,” he snaps at Greg instead, grabbing his beer and taking a deep drink. “Jus’ jealous Hazza isn’t telling you your eyes are as blue as- what was that, again?”

“Morpho butterflies.”

“Winged insects,” Louis says, letting his empty pint glass rattle down on the table. He scoots his chair closer to Harry and leans against his side, enjoying the long arm wrapping around his shoulders. “Hazza?” he murmurs.

“Hmm?” Harry asks, turning his head to Louis’ so his nose is just brushing Louis’ forehead.

“You smell really nice,” Louis says around a sigh, trying to motion for a waiter to bring another round of drinks but his hand is too heavy so he settles in on Harry’s thigh and nuzzles into his neck, taking a deep breath and slowly dozing off.

He’s asleep only a moment, jerking awake when his body slackens and his gut jumps like he’s falling, but Harry’s obviously aware, his free hand coming up to press against Louis’ sternum as if to help him balance.

“Sorry,” Louis chuckles, still a bit sleep-dazed from the brief doze.

“S’alright,” Harry says, but he keeps his hand where it is for a long moment. “You okay?”

“Just drunk,” Louis says around a yawn, the exhaustion from the weekend mixing with the booze in his blood. He wonders if he could get any closer to Harry so he can stay asleep longer the next time.

He’s about to vocalize his plan- it basically involves crawling into Harry’s lap- when he must sway dangerously close to sleep again because Harry manhandles him out of his chair, an arm tight around Louis’ waist. “We’re going to head off,” Harry says to the table and Louis should care but he’s warm where they’re touching and he doesn’t care if he stays or goes. “Anyone else need a ride back?”

Niall and Liam stay back but Greg and one of his friends stand as well. Louis had judged Steven immediately upon meeting him- any friend of Greg’s is an enemy of Louis’- but the lad is a hard worker and has been with them for a few years, so Louis thinks he should give him another chance.

Tomorrow, when he isn’t so drunk. Okay, Wednesday. Wednesday, when he isn’t drunk _or_ hungover, he’ll give Greg Horan’s stupid friend Steven a chance.

Louis thinks he’s saying some of his thoughts out loud again but he isn’t sure, and he sucks the tip of his tongue towards the back of his mouth to keep the words in again. They pile into Greg’s truck, Greg getting the shotgun seat automatically since it was his name on the title and Harry being assigned the designated driver role. Louis pouts and sucks his tongue, trying to resist climbing across the divider and pushing Greg out of the seat.

“Stupid Greg,” he says, barely above a whisper but loud enough that Harry must hear if Louis takes the eyebrow he raises as indication.

They make it back to the campground without much hassle, Steven deciding halfway through to start a conversation with Greg so that Louis had to listen to his unpleasant Irish accent. He sounded nothing like Niall. Niall was Louis’ best mate, he sounded like Blarney stone and green fields. Greg sounded like potatoes. Not even fresh from the ground potatoes, but the kind that sit under your sink for a week and start sprouting off.

Harry and Steven are laughing and staring at him and Louis slowly realizes he’s stopped sucking his tongue and is thinking out loud for a third time. “Fuck,” he mutters, seeing Greg’s ears get red from his vantage point behind him.

“You compared Greg’s voice to potato feelers?” Steven asks, laughing so hard his eyes are wet.

Louis grins and nods, sticking his tongue out when Harry gives him another _look_.

~*~

He gets sick almost as soon as he gets on his bus, pushing Harry’s arm off of him and dashing for the toilet, tossing up all the beer left in his belly. He’s thankful Fizz and Lottie are asleep already, the fan in the bathroom should be loud enough to cover the sound of his retching. He gets to his feet gradually, washing his out mouth before heading into the main area.

Harry’s still there, hovering in the space between the kitchen and the makeshift dining section. “Sorry about that,” Louis apologizes in a whisper, pointing over his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Harry rushes to reassure him, keeping his voice low. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

“Peachy,” Louis says with a smile, playing around. Harry smiles back and grabs a water Louis passes him from the small fridge. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Are you even going to be able to stay awake?” Harry teases.

Louis unabashedly shakes his head, grin widening to ear-from-ear. “You’ll make a nice pillow though,” he reasons, circling around Harry and pushing him forward to the back longue. “Back here,” he practically commands. Harry goes willingly- it doesn’t take Louis much to convince him of things, it seems- and Louis gets Harry settled into position before grabbing the remote and passing through channels until they find something Louis will watch.

He ends up settling on a _Game of Thrones_ marathon, tucking under Harry’s arm and leaning back on the narrow sofa. “You watch this?” he asks.

Harry shakes his head, securing his arm around Louis and bringing him even closer into his chest, so that his back is pressed tight to the cushions and Louis’ pressed tight to him. Louis turns onto his side, his nose pressing against Harry’s sternum, and he says, softly, “me neither. Tell me if it’s good?” Harry chuckles and replies that he will, bringing his other arm around Louis’ waist, the two of them secure on the cushions.

Louis starts to drift off to the sound of swords clashing, Harry’s large hands rubbing soothingly along his spine. His head’s dizzy and he honestly hates being drunk, but he sleeps better that night with Harry next to him than he has in a long time.

~*~

Waking up with a hangover, Louis groans and presses his cheek to the warm body below him, Harry somehow having shifted them in the middle of the night so he was sprawled across the sofa on his back with Louis’s weight mostly on his chest. The sound of Fizz and Lottie messing about in the kitchen must have been what woke him up, and he takes stock of the blanket over his shoulders and the silence from where the telly has been switched off. _Fizz, then_ he thinks, her mothering side even stronger than his own. Lottie would have turned the volume up even louder, but his second sister has always been his favourite anyway. Sure enough, there’s the sound of two mugs settling in the sink, one quite loudly and the other almost imperceptible, and then the _swooshing_ sound of the door closing behind them as they head off to start their day.

Even though opening his eyes is torture, Louis still forces himself to do so in slow motion. He blinks until Harry’s face comes into perspective, his curls a sweaty, knotty mess under his head and his mouth open with a bare hint of drool in the corner of his lips. Louis groans again, partially for attention but mostly from the pain in his head- it honestly feels like his skull has shrunk or his brain has gotten bigger and he isn’t completely positive but he may need to go to hospital. He might be the first care of shrinking skull in the UK, he should let them do as much research on him as they can before he croaks from it.

Harry stirs, eyes opening and lips smacking a couple times around a yawn. His eyes are strained and tired still, and Louis brushes a hand through Harry’s hair before he can stop himself. There are beads of sweat along his hairline and Louis realizes how close they were pressed together while they slept, how close they still are.

He doesn’t move.

“How are you feeling?” Harry croaks, voice rough and sleep-warm and eyes closing when Louis brushes his palm through his hair again.

“Like my blood is fifty percent bile and fifty percent battery acid,” he answers honestly, keeping his voice low. Harry pouts at him, the bags under his eyes severe. “Did you sleep at all?” he asks.

Shrugging in response, Harry palms Louis’ waist gently, kneading his fingers along the soft of Louis’ belly like a cat would to a carpet. “I was getting into the dragons,” he says, voice still thick. “But an advert came on for the next season and it said they can never be tamed, not even by their mother. What do you think that means?”

Louis lifts his shoulder in a shrug, relaxing down into Harry’s chest again and pressing his cheek to the warm skin through Harry’s t-shirt. “Guess it’s like the cats,” he says. “Can’t ever truly tame anything, ‘specially not a wild animal.” Harry hums and brings a hand to Louis’ back, running his fingers along the thin stretch of exposed skin between his t-shirt and the jeans he fell asleep in. “You’re really warm,” he notes.

“Normally don’t sleep in this much clothing,” Harry admits. “Especially not if someone else is around.”

“Slag,” Louis says, though the word has no heat when it’s forced out around a yawn.

“Not my fault,” Harry replies, and Louis can hear the pout in his voice. He flattens his hands on the dip of skin before Louis’ bum, pressing down just enough for Louis to really feel it.

“You’re tactile.”

“Can you blame me?” And, oh boy, Louis doesn’t need this. His head is pounding, he thinks he might be honestly dying and his throat is so sore he feels like he chugged gravel instead of mixed drinks, but Harry’s skin still feels amazing against his own. He’s getting thick in his pants where he’s pressed against the couch cushions. He’s been aware of the bulge pressing against his belly from where Harry’s clearly affected, but he feels too sick to do anything about it so he doesn’t, nuzzling Harry’s sternum affectionately before finally working up the nerve to sit.

It takes a moment, the room tilting in a decidedly dangerous way, but he is finally sitting up when it’s righted itself again, resting his head against the back cushion. Harry slips his legs off the sofa, patting Louis’ thigh gently.

“Need a wee,” he says, crossing the room on his endlessly long legs and heading into the tiny toilet the bus offers. Louis catches a glimpse of the sweat stain soaked through Harry’s t-shirt and he grins, imagining Harry stretching them out last night, eyes wide as he watches Khaleesi and her dragons, ignoring the heat building below him from their combined body temperatures.

It’s a surprisingly domestic thought and Louis doesn’t move for a long moment as he pictures it, the sound of Harry moving to the kitchen and making them tea drifting through the cramped space. He startles a bit when he hears knocking on the trailer door and realizes Niall and Liam must be coming by for their usual morning routine, tracking him down when he hadn’t been at his mum’s. He stands up too quickly, feeling like he’s going to fall over for a long moment before it passes and he can rush into the bathroom, dry heaving into the toilet. Harry comes in after him, and Louis moans when he brings a cool towel, pressing it against the back of Louis’ neck.

When Louis feels alive enough to try standing again, Harry helps keep him steady through the narrow doorway from the toilet into the main area of the bus. Niall’s got four steaming mugs on the table, an awkwardly obvious space between him and Liam that Louis wishes he felt well enough to tease them about. Harry sits in front of a mug of water only and Louis frowns as he takes his tea bag from his, squeezing the excess from it despite the temperature and dropping it on the table.

“Louis,” Liam pouts.

Louis shrugs and gulps half of his tea down in a few sips, the hot liquid burning his tongue in an all-too familiar way. “Sorry, Payno,” he says when he pulls the mug down, grabbing the tea bag and tossing it across the narrow aisle into the sink. “Better?” he asks with a grin before finishing his tea quickly.

Liam rolls his eyes instead of answering, blushing a bit when he brushes against Niall’s arm as he reaches for his cooling cup of most likely over-sweetened tea.

“What happened with you two last night?” Louis asks, eyes narrowing when an identical blush colours Niall’s cheeks. Neither of them answer and Louis wants to push again, but Harry’s hand on his thigh keeps him quiet.

“I’m off, Da wants me an’ Greg to help him with the horses,” Niall says after a moment of quiet. He finishes his tea and stands, rinsing it at the tap. Harry shifts, too, as if he’s going to ask Louis to move so he can get out but Louis shakes his head.

“You’re not leaving today,” he says.

“I’ve got work to do, one of the sets needs to be repainted and Mark wants me to add some more support to the Pride Rock feature, so Nia can safely go up there next time.”

“I’ll do it,” Louis says, though the thought of paint fumes and hammering makes him want to throw up again. “You didn’t get any sleep last night, too busy taking care of me. I can’t let you go out there.”

Harry smiles fondly but still rolls his eyes. “You’re in no shape to build anything,” he says.

Louis would take offense if it wasn’t so true, smiling instead and leaning his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. He turns his face so he’s looking at Liam, trying to get his eyes to look particularly beseeching. “ _Liiiiam_ ,” he croons, blinking his eyes.

He’s already shaking his head. “No, I’ve got to help mum with the score for the new aerial routines.”

Louis blinks a couple more times, Liam’s face relaxing more every time Louis’ eyes open. Finally, he groans and thuds his mug onto the table. “Fine,” he snaps. “I’ll do Harry’s work today. You’re going to owe me, Tommo.”

“Shouldn’t I owe you?” Harry asks, fidgeting a little in his seat. “Since you’re doing my work?”

“This is clearly all Louis’ fault,” Liam explains. “His fault he had to have a babysitter all night, his fault he got so drunk in the first place.”

“Aww, Daddy Liam’s being mean,” Louis pouts, giggling into Harry’s shoulder again and closing his eyes against the light from the daybreak filtering in through the busses windows. Louis stands slowly, pouring a last couple for himself and dipping another tea bag into it. Liam gets up and presses a kiss to Louis’ temple, walking from the bus and through the trailers to get to the arena.

“They had sex,” Harry says from behind him, nearly causing Louis to drop his mug.

“What? How-” he asks, turning to face Harry and sputtering through his questions.

“S’obvious, innit? They were acting a lot differently than normal. Kept looking at each other, too. Plus, I watched them walk up while I was starting the kettle and they were definitely acting like two people who’ve just hooked up.”

Louis’ impressed with Harry’s observations. “You noticed a lot for a quick twenty-minutes at most. S’about time, though, that those two get their shit together. They’ve both been lighting up like the sun whenever the other is around for a year now, at least.”

Harry doesn’t move from the booth-style seat, sipping his water slowly while Louis drowns another full mug. The silence is comfortable, something Louis could easily fall into a rhythm regarding if they repeat this again.

“Let’s go lay down again, there are a couple spare bunks here that Niall and Liam normally take but they’re clearly not here so you can have your pick.” Harry frowns a bit at that, bottom lip full where it tucks over his top lip in a pout. “Or,” Louis teases, smirking and cocking his hip to the side a bit, “you can shove into mine with me.”

Harry smiles immediately, nodding his head and slipping out from the booth, crossing the small space and crowding Louis against the counter for a moment as he sets his mug in the sink. “C’mon then,” he says, turning away and heading towards the bunks.

Louis stares for a moment. He’d have pegged Harry as a clean freak, but it’s nice to see the lad leave his mug untouched. Louis sets his unfinished tea to the side, intending to reheat it later when they wake up again, and follows Harry into the back. Harry’s standing next to what is obviously Louis’ bunk- the bed unmade and rumpled with a couple books about animal training strewn about. He’s got both of his hands on the waistband of his jeans, running his thumbs along the edge of his button fly.

“Go ahead,” Louis says, nodding at his trousers when Harry looks at him questioningly. “I’ve got some shorts you can wear if you’d like.” At Harry’s hesitant nod, he opens a drawer in the chest at the end of the bunks, pulling out two pairs of shorts for them and handing one over.

He averts his gaze when Harry changes, the length of his legs obvious out of the corner of Louis’ eye, and he represses an image of biting into the pale skin there, of leaving teeth marks and beard burn behind.

He climbs up and into his bed, the width wider than usual to accommodate a more permanent living situation. He turns and faces the wall automatically, feeling Harry settle behind him and wrap an arm around his waist.

“This okay?” Harry asks, voice low in Louis’ ear and Louis barely manages to keep himself from shuddering, letting out a small exhale instead as he nods.

“Yeah, s’okay,” he agrees, letting a hand fall to Harry’s bare arm and ignoring the fact that he knows Harry is shirtless behind him. His still-throbbing hangover head is the only thing keeping him from turning over and taking proper stock of the miles of naked skin. He scratches his nails lightly against Harry’s wrist, fervently hoping for another chance like this as he drifts off to sleep again.

~*~

His chance comes sooner than he was expecting.

They gradually wake up in the early afternoon, Harry eating a few handfuls of dry cereal while Louis inhales another cup of tea. “You ever eat solids?” Harry asks with a teasing frown, chomping on Weetabix like it’s a protein bar.

“You know you’re supposed to eat that with milk?” Louis retorts, enjoying his near-completely liquid diet. Harry responds by pulling a face, eyes widening and crossing, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “That’s charming,” Louis laughs.

“Tastes better dry,” Harry explains.

“You’re a crazy man.”

“And yet you let me around your cats anyway.”

“Speaking of cats, want to meet the lions proper like?”

To say Harry’s face lights up at Louis’ words would be an understatement. He starts nodding before Louis’ finished speaking, coughing a bit on the dry cereal in his mouth as he sets the rest of the biscuit aside. “Are you serious?” he asks. “Can I meet them, please?”

Louis smiles and nods, enjoys how much Harry likes the animals. He’s had boys before, who were excited to meet the cats but then balked when given the opportunity. Harry is completely different, respectfully eager and enthusiastic.

But then his face falls and he pulls a pout. “What?” Louis asks, startled.

“We can’t go meet the cats if we bunked off.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You bunked off one day, Hazza. We’re not kicking you out.”

Harry just pouts at him harder, and that explains why Louis finds himself touching up the paint on some of the acrobat sets twenty minutes later while Harry relieves Liam of his borrowed duties. The lions are just being led back to their runs when Harry finds him. “I’m almost done,” he starts, and Louis groans, letting his forehead fall to the wall in front of him before he realizes he’s just put on a fresh coat of blue paint.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling back and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Harry’s laughing at him, reaching out to wipe at his nose, and Louis slaps his hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” he pouts. “Why can’t we go play with the cats? They’re ready for us.”

Harry frowns a little, clearly feeling like he’s being pulled in multiple directions at once. “I thought it might be nice to finish Niall and Liam’s work, to let them have some time off together.”

Louis frowns right back at him, giving up on getting all of the paint off his face. “Why should we do that? They haven’t even told us they’re hooking up.”

“Because it would be the nice thing to do,” Harry says as if it’s that simple. Louis finds that he’s charmed despite himself, and he agrees with a shrug, startled when Harry leans in and kisses his cheek gently.

“Meet you back here in an hour,” Louis says quickly, heading off before Harry can see his blush. He heads off in the direction of the barn, Harry taking the stairs up to the office where Liam is working with his mum on the music for the acrobatic performances.

He tells Niall that he and Harry are giving him and Liam time off to go shag, enjoying the flush that colours Niall’s cheeks. “Shove off,” Niall says from where he’s bent-over, picking out a horse’s hoof.

“Honest,” Louis grins. “We know you two did the deed last night, and Hazza thinks it’s be ‘nice’ to let you guys get another quickie in before Greg and your dad get done with work.”

Niall sets the foot down gently, looking up at Louis. “Yer not taking the piss,” he says, voice flat and with no hint of a question. “You always take the piss about Liam, but now that you think we’re having sex, you’re not saying anything.”

Louis shrugs, stepping into position and picking out the next hoof after patting the horse on its flank to alert it to his presence. “I’ve known it was going to happen,” he states.

“No, this is something else. This is something to do with Harry.” Louis rolls his eyes, looking up at Niall. Before he can say anything, the Irish lad continues. “Are you sure you two haven’t hooked up yet?”

“I think I’d know,” he says, carefully, not wanting Niall to hear how irritated he is. “Shouldn’t you be off shagging your boyfriend now?”

“S’not my _boyfriend_ ,” Niall says. “We’re just. I don’t know, we’re just hooking up a bit.”

Louis looks up at that, smirking as he scrapes out the caked-in dirt. “Young Niall, you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree if you think either yourself _or_ Liam could ever just “hook up” with a friend.”

Niall throws his hand in the air in a rude gesture, turning and walking away without a word. Louis laughs to himself as he finishes the hooves, giving the horse a couple of mints for being gentle and patient. He makes his way through the rest of the horses, Bobby and Greg in with a mare who’s been showing signs of illness. Louis pops his head over the door to her stall when he’s done.

“The hooves are all picked, what’s next on the youngest Horan’s list of duties?”

Bobby looks up at him with a preoccupied frown. He takes a moment to think it over. “If you could double-check they’ve all got fresh water and feed,” he says. “I don’t remember if Niall did that already. After that, you’re good to go. Thanks, Louis.”

Louis smiles back at him and frowns at the back of Greg’s head when Bobby looks down. He double checks the water and hay, pleased when he sees Niall _had_ completed it already. He then washes his hands before leaving the barn, finding Harry right where he had told him to meet.

“That fucking cheek kiss was a joke,” Louis says as he reaches him.

Harry grins at him and sticks out his arms, pulling Louis into his body with his hands on Louis’ hips, lifting one hand when they’re pressed together and using his fingertips to tilt Louis’ chin up. He brings their mouths together, a sweet, closed-mouthed kiss against Louis’ lips.

“What about that one?” he asks, eyes shining bright. “Was that a joke?”

Louis grumbles, arms wrapping around Harry’s neck and pulling him down into another kiss without answering. Harry giggles against his lips, but returns the kiss eagerly, his tongue teasing against Louis’.

“Cats,” he says when he pulls back and Louis curses his earlier promise. All he wants to do right now is drag Harry back to the bus, kick his sisters out, and ravage him completely. But Harry looks so eager to meet the lions that he can’t even suggest it, and instead presses one last kiss to Harry’s plump bottom lip and leads him by the hand to the lions.

Much like he had with Kali and Devi, Louis holds out his hand in front of Aslan and lets the lion focus on him as Harry approaches. None of the cats are mean and he trusts them all to act accordingly to a new person the way they would to someone they knew. But it’s important to continue to instill in Harry the proper way to act around them, and it shows the cats that they are still respected as well.

Aslan is an old man and an older soul, doesn’t react much when Harry finally approaches or even when he reaches it to pet him. “He’s very regal,” Louis says in a proud voice. “Aslan’s the emperor of this circus.”

“He’s wonderful,” Harry says as he combs through his mane.

When Aslan’s done with them fonding over him, he nips gently at Harry’s fingers. It’s not much, doesn’t break skin or even apply too much pressure from Louis’ experience with the same thing, but Harry gasps and smiles all the same. Aslan levels them an unimpressed look and stalks away, tail high in the air like he’s prancing.

“Show-off,” Louis mutters around a grin, grabbing Harry’s hand and inspecting it. It’s perfunctory at best, knows he won’t find any damage, but Harry’s a little shell-shocked. “Y’alright?” Louis asks him, starting to get concerned when the dazed look won’t leave his eyes.

“A lion _bit_ me,” he says when he looks at Louis, smiling wide.

Louis laughs, can’t believe Harry is _excited_ that a felid gnawed his finger. “Barely,” he teases. Harry doesn’t seem to hear him, staring at his hand. “Alright, let’s go meet the other one before he gets jealous,” Louis says after a moment of staring when he realizes he’s possibly a little _too_ charmed by Harry.

Harry’s excitement only increases when they get to Baruti, who is being exercised by Alberto. “Hey guys,” he says as they walk in, Harry staying close to his side.

Louis nods acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything, wants Baruti to notice them in his own time. “He’s already got someone in here with him,” Louis explains in an undertone to Harry, “so we don’t have to wait quite as long to approach him. He’s already been…” he trails off, unable to explain it. “Ten people is the same as one, sometimes,” he settles with. “Once he’s aware a human is in his area, he’s okay with a few friendly others.”

Harry murmurs his understanding behind him, and something low in his hum must get the cat’s attention because he turns around and sees them, ambling over.

“He looks like Mufasa,” Harry says around a whisper as Louis holds a hand out to keep the cat from jumping up on them for a hug. Baruti snorts a bit like a horse might, clearly unimpressed with the restrictions on his affection. Louis coaxes him to come forward slowly, grabbing Harry’s hand and linking their fingers together before lifting them for him to sniff.

He’s immediately drawn to Harry, licking at their hands before walking around Louis to butt his head against Harry’s leg, the poor lad having to lock his knees to avoid stumbling. “He’s a bit unaware of his own strength,” Louis laughs, coaxing Harry to use his free hand to pet Baruti when he realizes he’d quite like to keep holding Harry’s other hand.

“This is absolutely amazing,” Harry says in his usual tone of awe, his thin, pale fingers disappearing into Baruti’s mane. His is shorter than Aslan’s, doesn’t reach as far back on his shoulders, but it’s red-toned and thick, standing high and giving him an appearance of the Disney lion he was almost named after. Baruti’s also a slag for attention, making little roaring sounds as he rubs his body along Harry’s.

“He’s just like a housecat,” Louis says with a grin, having an idea. “He’ll give you a hug if you’d like.”

Harry doesn’t take his eyes off the cat- doesn’t have any kind of outward reaction, the good lad- but he says “yes, please,” faster than Louis has ever heard him speak before. “Louis, don’t be teasing,” he says when Louis doesn’t move immediately.

Rolling his eyes at the monster he’s unleashed, Louis steps away from Harry and shouts. Baruti looks at him immediately, coming closer to investigate why Louis made the sound. Louis taps his chest near his shoulders with both hands, nodding his head and tapping again. He bends his knees just slightly when Baruti stands on his back legs, buckled for impact when his huge paws land on his shoulders. He nuzzles at Louis’ face, nose pressed to his cheek for a moment while Louis pats as far up his back as he can reach.

Harry’s practically green with envy when Louis pushes the cat down, calling Harry over to stand next to him. “Don’t be jealous,” Louis teases. “Do you remember what I did?”

Like he’s reciting a presentation, Harry says, “You stood back, tapped your shoulders and bent your knees.”

“So do that,” Louis says. “Step back a couple feet, get his attention, tell him what you want and brace yourself for impact- his paws are the size of your face and his front half is still heavy even with his weight supported on his hind legs. I’ll be next to you to make sure he plays nice, but he’s clearly besotted with you.”

Harry smiles wide, a deep dimple appearing in his left cheek, and if they weren’t in the presence of a 400 pound Masai lion, then Louis would stick his finger in the space to check its depth. As it is, he turns to focus on the lion, stepping back with Harry and watching his motions from the corner of his eye. Baruti responds quickly, ambling over to Harry from where he’s wandered away. He lifts onto his back legs quickly and Harry crouches a bit, Louis pressing a hand to his lower back to help him steady himself once Baruti makes contact.

“Oof,” Harry grunts on impact, a smile in his voice all the same. The lion rubs his cheek against Harry’s, sniffing and licking at his hair. “Yeah, I’ve got a bit of a mane, too,” he laughs. “I like yours better, though, if I’m honest.”

And, oh god, but Harry is actually completely _awful_ and Louis is never bringing him around the cats again. Baruti doesn’t seem to agree, grunting and making little roaring sounds in his throat that seem to mock a purr. After a moment, Louis has to step behind Harry and knock Baruti’s paws to the ground. “You’re gonna mess up your back forever if you let him continue,” he chides.

Harry doesn’t seem to be concerned, laughing and petting the cat’s mane and running his hands down his spine when Baruti shifts, clearly directing where he’d like Harry to bestow his affection. From his own enclosure, Aslan roars for no apparent reason, and Baruti bounds away to investigate, leaving them on their own.

“C’mon,” Louis says, taking Harry by the hand and dragging him away. He should take a moment to reflect on how many times he’s done just this in the short time they’ve known each other, pulling a willing Harry where he wants him to go, but he doesn’t have the capacity to think right now at all.

Harry, for once though, doesn’t question him at all, hurrying along with him and even pulling in front a bit, clearly of the same mind. They crash onto Louis’ bus and he leaves Harry standing in the kitchen for the exact amount of time it takes him to confirm that his sisters are nowhere to be found. He texts Fizz _‘stay with mum tonight, tell the loud one’_ and returns to Harry.

“Are we alone?” Harry asks, voice already an octave lower and eyes dark in the fading light. Louis barely has a chance to nod before Harry’s advancing, pressing him against the counter and bringing their mouths together.

It’s a routine Louis understands inside and out, having gotten off with enough lads to know how they tend to enjoy feeling like they’re in control. He lets himself go slack a bit, Harry’s arms winding around his waist to pull him up on his toes. The kiss is different from the previous ones they’ve shared, mouths opening easily and tongues pressing against each other. Louis breathes out a moan into Harry’s mouth, letting himself sound airy and desperate for it, but then Harry pulls back slightly.

“What are you doing?” he asks against Louis’ lips, the distance between them just enough to form words.

“What?” Louis asks, confused. He lets his hands trail from Harry’s hips to his shoulders, light fingers against his skin.

“Stop that.” Louis pulls back at his words, startled. Harry’s honestly _pouting_ at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t act with me,” Harry says, voice in a low growl reminiscent of Aslan himself.

“M’not acting,” Louis tries, eyes focused for a moment on Harry’s pecs through his t-shirt before he looks up at him through his eyelashes.

Harry gets a hand on the back of Louis’ neck, palm warm and gentle even as he applies just a hint of pressure on his skin. He uses his thumb to press into the skin behind Louis’ ear. “Don’t play around with me,” he says, voice near begging, and Louis gasps a bit for real, letting his head fall back and his lips part.

“I won’t,” he says. “I’m not going to mess you around,” he promises, rewarded when Harry brings their mouths together again. He wonders where the heat in Harry’s voice has come from, tries to think back and remember if Harry’s had this manner about him before, but he’s overwhelmed with the way Harry’s licking into his mouth, and he can’t think about anything at all.

When they pull back to gasp in a quick breath, Louis stops Harry from leaning back in with a hand on his sternum. “Where is this coming from?” he asks, breathless. Harry shrugs, hands under Louis’ shirt and kneading at his hips before falling to press against his bum through his trousers. “Not that I’m complaining,” Louis hastens to clarify, pushing up on his toes again to encourage Harry to curl his fingers under the swell of his arse. He grunts a little when Harry does just that, digging in enough that Louis can feel each individual finger.

“You make me feel crazy,” Harry says in answer. He leans in for another kiss, gentler this time and teasing. Louis whimpers for real when Harry lifts him onto the counter, hands going to Louis’ thighs as the height difference switches.

Louis brings his hands to Harry’s cheeks, feeling the shock in how small they seem as he palms his jaw and brushes the tip of his index finger along Harry’s temple. “You’re so beautiful,” Louis whispers when he pulls back, being mindful of the cupboards hanging behind his head.

Harry flushes and his previous demeanor breaks a bit, a smile touching at his lips. “I don’t know if you’re still playing around,” he says, a little rueful.

Louis rolls his eyes fondly and tugs at a strand of Harry’s hair. “I’m not,” he promises, quickly kissing him again. “Harry, I’m not.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, is all. Don’t want this to… not be real.”

“It’s real,” Louis promises, feeling heat in his cheeks from the way Harry’s looking at him.

Harry brings him into another bruising kiss, and the switch between his personalities has Louis’ head spinning in the best way, hands clutching at Harry’s shoulders to keep his balance as he leans forward on the counter, desperate to get even closer.

He pitches too far forward but Harry catches him, talking on Louis’ weight the same way he’d handled Baruti’s. “Lou,” Harry whines, setting him on the ground and pawing at his shirt until Louis ducks and lets him pull it over his head.

“Yours, too,” he says, staring as Harry pulls his off to reveal his lightly defined abs, biceps toned from all the work he’s been doing around the circus. “Fuck, you’re ridiculously fit,” he says, crossing his arms across the soft of his belly.

“No,” Harry says, grabbing for Louis’ wrists and pulling them to his sides. He kneels in front of him, pressing a kiss to the small swell below his navel. “Don’t ever hide this,” he says, nipping his teeth gently on the skin.

“Got a thing for fatties?” Louis asks, causing Harry to bite harder and suck a mark into the skin.

“Don’t use that word,” he says reproachfully.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis swears, feeling his dick jerk in his pants at the sting of teeth. His hangover’s a distant memory at this point, and he buries a hand in Harry’s hair, keeping his mouth on his skin. Harry obliges, nosing at the dark hail trailing to the waistband of his jeans.

“Can I?” Harry asks, fingers coming up to tease along the edge of fabric. Louis nods, meeting Harry’s eyes as he pops open the button fly and hooks his fingers over his pants as well, tugging them down together. Louis’ cock hangs heavy against his thigh, thick and wet at the tip.

“God, will you fuck me?” Harry asks, pressing his lips to the base of Louis’ cock.

Louis breathes out hard through his nose, feeling his nostrils flare. "You drive me crazy" he says. "I don't know how to not be affected by you."

Harry grins at that, looking up at him and winking before dragging his lips down the vein of Louis’ dick and mouthing at the head. Louis’ hand tightens in his hair instinctively before he remembers to keep his fingers loose, petting through the mess of curls until Harry pulls back and sits on his heels.

“Let’s get in the bunk,” Louis says, surprised with how deep his voice is. Harry scrambles to get to his feet, grinning when he stumbles and Louis laughs at him. He stops laughing when Harry pushes the rest of his clothes off, climbing into Louis’ bed, bare arse disappearing behind the curtain.

Louis takes a moment to breathe. _You’ve got this_ , he thinks to himself. _This isn’t the first fit lad you’ve been with, you can handle it_.

He deals with a sassy, 500 pound liger every day, but Harry Styles might be his downfall. The thought doesn’t scare him as much as he thought it would.

~*~

Cheltenham, Oxford and Marlborough each pass in a haze. If Louis isn’t with the cats, he’s tumbling into bed with Harry. Between the sheets, there’s laughter and whispered conversations. It’s too reminiscent of Louis’ ex that he doesn’t think about it at all, just focuses on Harry and the way the younger lad makes him feel on fire and invincible.

Niall and Liam are openly together now, holding hands backstage and accepting teasing from the other company members. Flushed is a good look on both of them, and Louis and Harry both enjoy seeing how dark their cheeks can get from quick jabs and invasive questions.

“Eh, fuck off with ya,” Niall laughs one night when Harry’s particularly persistent, the bus rattling along the road beneath them on the way to London. Lottie, Fizz and a couple of their friends have claimed the back room for a sleepover of sorts, but the lads have no problem settling into two bunks, curtains pulled back so they can talk across the aisle.

“What’s London going to be like?” Harry asks after a pause, still giggling slightly.

“London’s amazing,” Liam answers for them. “There’s nothing like the energy you feel with those audiences. Honestly, it seems as though our shows leading up to London are almost practice, like.”

Harry almost vibrates in Louis’ arms, clearly excited. “We should probably get to sleep,” Louis says. “Early start tomorrow and only two days until the first show.”

They say their goodnights and draw the curtains closed, Louis shifting so his back is against the wall and his chest is pressed to Harry’s shirtless back.

“I feel like I’ve found a new kind of family,” Harry says softly. “Nothing could ever replace mum, of course. But being here, I feel like I have a purpose.”

Louis kisses the bare shoulder in front of him when the lad pauses, having heard Harry talk about his mum only a couple times before. “You do have a purpose here,” he says, hands tracing over the soft skin of Harry’s breastbone. “But you’ll have a purpose after, too.”

“After?” Harry asks, turning in Louis’ arms to face him.

Louis pecks him on the lips once, their bare skin warm where they touch. “Yeah,” he says with a shrug. “When you leave. Go to school or whatever.”

Harry’s frowning but Louis isn’t sure why. “School?”

“Didn’t know you were a parrot,” he teases. “School, you know. I figure you’re gonna be a lawyer or doctor. Something smart.”

“Are you going to school?” Harry asks, looking down where their fingers are tangling together.

Louis laughs. “Of course not. This is my life.”

“I thought this might be for me, though. I mean. I love the animals and the atmosphere. I love entertaining people.”

Louis feels guilty at the way Harry’s energy has fallen.

“Nobody stays, Haz.”

Harry looks up at him from under his eyelashes, but there’s nothing coy in his look. “You’re staying,” he says stubbornly.

Louis’ guilt passes and turns into a touch of annoyance when Harry doesn’t drop it. “This is my life,” he repeats. “Mum tried to leave when she was young but it didn’t work, so when me dad left, she came back here with her parents. Met Mark and look at them now: happy with a bunch of little sisters for me.”

“I want that, too.”

“You’re not circus folk, Harry, It isn’t going to work.”

“Why are you so adamant about that?” Harry asks, pulling out of Louis’ arms. “Do you not _want_ me to stay?”

“It’s not about me. So many people run away to the circus but no one stays.”

“I might.”

“No!” Louis says, voice near-shouting. He can hear the girls get quieter in the back and he forces his voice to stay quiet as he continues. “You’re not going to stay, Harry. You’ll be here for awhile, fuck around with the boss’ son, and you’ll go off to uni when that gets old.”

“I’m not your ex,” Harry snaps, voice barely above a whisper but stone cold all the same. “I’m not here to ‘ _fuck the boss’ son_ ’ on a lark and just up and leave.”

Louis is breathing heavily, shocked. He didn’t know Harry even _knew_ about his ex, and the news that he does is enough to startle him into silence. Harry slips out of bed, pulling on a shirt and shoving his feet into his shoes.

“I told you not to bloody mess me about,” Harry says where he’s stood outside of the bunk. “I fucking _warned_ you not to pretend with me. I see now I was always just a replacement for him. And to think I actually…” he trails off, voice thick as if with tears. Louis’s eyes are wide and he doesn’t know what to say, watching Harry’s eyes. They’re cold and dark, a touch of hurt buried in the green, and he walks away before Louis can do anything.

As soon as the sliding door between the bunks and the front room closes, Louis’ scrambling out of bed. He kicks the sheets off from where they are tangled around his ankles, feeling his heart skip a beat as the bus slows. All he can picture is Harry walking out the door and Louis never being able to see him again, and he nearly screams when Niall slips out of his bunk and grabs him around the waist, helping him get untangled but not letting him go after Harry.

“Let me the fuck go,” he hisses, but Niall braces his arms around his middle and shushes into his ear.

“Give him space, Lou.”

“Fuck off.”

“He’s just hurt, he didn’t listen when we tried to tell him-”

“So you’re to blame for what’s just happened?” Louis spits out, the bus door closing and the tires rolling again. He jerks himself free of Niall’s grip but doesn’t go far, spinning on his heel. “Some more talking behind my back?”

“Harry came to us, Louis,” Liam says from where he’s now sat up on his and Niall’s bunk. “Wanted to know if you did this a lot.”

“Oh, so you told him I’m a slag who puts out for all the lads during their stay?”

“Damn it, Louis, you know that isn’t what we’d say,” Niall says, arms folded as he leans against the sliding door as if he’s still trying to block Louis from leaving, though Harry’s surely been picked up by the bus behind them now.

“What did you tell him then? What could you possibly have told Harry?” They’re both quiet, sharing a glance. It irritates Louis even further, a fact he didn’t know was even possible. “What did you say to Harry about him?”

“Just what he needed to know,” Liam says finally. “We told Harry that you haven’t really trusted anyone since your ex. That you keep yourself closed off from everyone, including us sometimes. And, erm,” he gets quiet for a moment, Louis tapping his barefoot against the floor.

“What?”

“That you don’t expect anyone to pick you,” Niall answers for him. “You expect everyone to leave you.”

“It’s _literally_ a bloody circus,” Louis snaps. “Everyone _does_ leave.”

“That’s not fair. Not everyone leaves. Mark’s stayed.”

“Mark stayed because of my mum. He wouldn’t have otherwise.”

They share a look that makes Louis feel like he’s missing something. “Lou,” Niall says gently, coming forward to place his hands gently on Louis’ arms. “There are a lot of reasons people stay; maybe you’re Harry’s reason.”

The fight goes out of him, head ducking down to Niall’s shoulder and bones feeling loose in his body. “I’m not-” he starts, needing a minute. “I’m not going to be the reason someone gives up on their future. What kind of life can someone have in a circus?”

“We like our lives,” Niall says, hugging him and tugging him to his bed. “You like your life; your cats are everything to you. Liam and I love what we do, performing for people is thrilling in a way that nothing else could ever be. Harry might find a life here, too.”

“ _He_ didn’t,” Louis says, knowing they’ll understand from his emphasis that he isn’t talking about Harry.

“No, I know,” Liam says, crossing the aisle to sit next to Louis. “But he wasn’t made for this life. Doesn’t mean Harry can’t hack it, too.”

“He was made for this, how can you say he wasn’t? No one could take their eyes off him when he was up there in those silks.”

“No one is doubting he’s made for lights,” Niall says, his hand warm on Louis’ lower back. “But he wasn’t made for the hard work and long days, for the close quarters and less-than-luxurious accommodations. Harry grew up in a farmhouse. He’s used to hard work and a sense of community. He knows animals like the back of his hand, can diagnose an ornery mare after a moment alone with her. He loves entertaining people but he loves our morning routine, too, with tea and quiet. You’re not giving Harry a fair shot even though he’s exactly perfect for you.”

Louis knows that what they’re both saying holds water, but he doesn’t have the capacity to analyze his feelings now. He’s too tired, too wound tight, so he doesn’t say anything more. He lets Niall and Liam cuddle into him in the oversized bunk, the three of them barely fitting but comfortable nonetheless as they drift to sleep.

~*~

Baruti, in particular, has preferred Harry best since the moment they were introduced. When Harry doesn’t come in to see him with Louis- a pattern he’s grown used to over the past few cities- he gets agitated and restless. He doesn’t respond well when they lead him out to his run. The land they have for their London stay is expansive, located just outside of the city on enough land that Nia, Aslan and Baruti can all share when they get along but also be comfortably separated when they don’t.

Kali and Devi are already in theirs, running off their pent-up energy from the night of travel. Louis wishes desperately for a moment that he could get in their space with them and play around, burn some tension, but he knows he’s too keyed up to spend any stretch of time with them. It wouldn’t do to set their stress levels high because he can’t contain his own frustrations.

Baruti balks and tugs at the chain on his neck, almost ripping it from Louis’ grasp in his panic, and Mark sends Louis away with a few terse words, telling him to not come back until he can control himself. It does nothing to lighten his mood, but he keeps busy with manual labor instead, making sure to always be somewhere Harry isn’t.

The lad won’t speak to him, turns away when Louis approaches or ignores him if he can’t go anywhere. He spends a lot of time with Greg- which only irritates Louis further- but seems pleasant enough when Niall and Liam approach. Louis sends Fizz and Lottie to talk to him, after apologizing to the latter for calling her ‘loud’. The report back is that Harry is friendly but slightly distant with them, helping with their invented need for help but not lingering to speak to them once he was finished. The only Tomlinsons he seems to tolerate are the twins and Louis’ mum, sporting braids for the two days he and Louis don’t speak and always polite to the boss, no matter how disappointed in her son he is.

Usually, the thing he looks the most forward to in London the most is their accommodations. Liam’s grandparents own a house with land near the campground, and they let the boys take over a renovated barn on their property for the near-five month duration of their stay. Being in a small space with a loved up couple just gets Louis even further irritated, and he spends the hours before opening night starts kicking a ball around with Devi, finally feeling stress-free enough to be around the cats. He had spent the last night in his bunk and gone through his morning routine alone to get his feelings under control. He hadn’t seen Harry at all that day, so couldn’t get upset at the way the lad ignored him. He sweats out the lingering tension, Devi ruining a new record of twelve footballs before he calls it a day.

Happily chomping on the deflated polyester, Devi spares him no mind when he leaves her be. He takes a shower quickly, dressing in his stage outfit- a pair of form-fitting tan trousers, black riding boots that reach just under his knee, and a black blazer over a red button-up. He smooths over his shirt, trying to stretch out the hint of a wrinkly under the second button. Harry’s always liked this costume in particular, would tell Louis in a teasing whisper that the fabric of the trousers pulled perfectly over his pert arse, that the red made his tan skin look richer and his bright cheeks even brighter.

Louis thinks about it now, turning and inspecting every inch of himself that he can see. He’s always known how he looks, his ex had made it perfectly clear how physically attractive he thought Louis was, but Harry makes Louis feel something else entirely. Something closer to beautiful, to worth it. Louis resolves to sort things out with Harry- knows that they haven’t reached the end of their story- and pushes aside all thoughts.

He isn’t missing opening night because of some butterflies in his stomach.

~*~

The evening starts off as usual, with Jay stepping out in her ringleader hat and gloves, welcoming the audience to their show. The clowns and some of their acrobats come out and seem to cut her off, launching into the first act seamlessly. They get the crowd pumped with their fast-paced music and tricks: jumping rope and doing flips around the arena, sometimes at the same time.

The music slows just a bit and the jugglers come out. Louis watches backstage as Harry takes the stage with Greg’s friend Steven and another tall fellow, Nick, the three of them all inordinately tall and just gangly enough that the tricks they do seem even more impressive in comparison. He can’t tear his eyes away from Harry, smiling at the look of utter delight on Harry’s face. At one point, he fumbles a bit with the disks they’re flipping about, but nothing touches the ground and the only reason Louis notices is because of how familiar he is with the routine. Harry doesn’t let the slip up get out of hand, easily correcting himself and finishing their set with a wide beam.

He passes Louis as they walk the tunnel backstage, pausing for a brief moment when he meets his eyes. Steven and Nick keep walking, but Harry stops long enough to reach out a hand and squeeze Louis’ bicep through his jacket. “You were amazing,” Louis breathes, honest.

“You’re going to do great out there,” Harry says, voice just as sincere. He starts walking again, turning at the last moment to look at Louis before he rounds the corner, and Louis focuses back on the show, the aerial acrobats up now.

The routine is faster than the ones his ex would usually do, two girls high in the air with red and orange silks. Louis scans the crowd while their set is on, stopping still when a familiar face in the audience catches his eye.

His ex is sitting front row with a small group, girls who look enough like him that they must be the sisters he’d told Louis about. They’re all watching the aerialists above them, faces showing delight and amazement as they spin down their long silks head-over-feet until they stop short of the floor, gracefully untangling from the sheets and taking their bows.

With that, Jay steps out again, the darkness descending upon the arena save for the spotlight on her. She thanks the audience again for attending, going through her usual speech about how she hopes they are all enjoying the show so far. The spotlight finds a couple of families in the audience, and she asks the kids their favourite part.

Behind her and under the cover of darkness, the stage is being set for the animals. They don’t use the full arena, large sections of fence being wheeled in quickly and constructed in a circle to protect the audience. The partitions are locked together and platforms are rolled in before the cats are led, one-by-one, into the enclosure. Louis barely hears his cue, entering the space at the last minute.

“You alright?” Mark asks in an undertone as the final partition is closed behind them. There are emergency latches in case something happens that can only be accessed from outside, Paddy, Alberto and Preston all stood around the fence to keep them safe. Louis trusts his cats implicitly, though, and he wills himself to calm down. He doesn’t want to set them off at all.

“Course I am,” he whispers back, putting as much fake bravado into his voice as he can.

The lights come back up when Jay is finished speaking, the audience getting very loud as they realize what they’re looking at. The newly reinforced Pride Rock is in the middle of the arena, the five cats on their platforms along the edge. Louis jogs up to the top of Pride Rock, motioning for the audience to be quiet.

“We can’t let the praise get to their heads now, can we?” he asks, voice amplified by his microphone. He smiles wide at the laugh that gets, the audience quiet otherwise. “Let’s introduce you to the stars of tonight’s show!”

He calls out each cat one-by-one, each jumping down from their platform when they hear their specific whistle that Mark is blowing, pitch too high for most ears. They do a lap around the pen before jumping through a set of hoops and returning to their platforms. Each cat responds accordingly except Baruti, who takes an additional lap, ignoring Louis’ commands to take the hoops. He gets back to the platform and Louis- face hot under the lights and with the thought that his ex is seeing him lose control- tries to play it off as if the cat being insolent is funny.

“He’s just a gentle giant, though,” he says, exiting Pride Rock through the back. He jumps up onto Kali’s platform, hands on her spine. “They all are, truly. But they’re also wild animals, and they need to be treated with respect. We carry crops with us for emergency use only, and we never hit when simple words will do. For instance,” he says, ignoring how he’s stood directly in front of his ex and his sisters, “Kali here is a bit spoilt for being called ‘princess’. She’s no idea what the word means,” he pauses for the little ones to laugh, “but if we all say ‘princess’ once as loud as we can, maybe she’ll do a trick for us. Shall we try it?”

As expected, the audience all shout ‘yes’ and he leads them in a ‘one… two… three’ count until they all shout the word loudly. Like the pro that she is, Kali jumps down, leaving Louis alone in her spot. Mark comes to the front and leads her through a series of leaps and steps. He sits her down at one point and has her roll over on her back, calling Devi down as well.

“That there is her sister,” Louis recites on cue. “She’s a bit bigger than Kali and she likes to think she’s better at tricks, too. Shall we call her ‘duchess’?” He pauses for the audience’s affirmative response. “Mark here is going to put them through the same steps, side by side. Pay very close attention. When we’re all done, we’re going to ask you who did better. You’re going to answer with ‘princess’ or ‘duchess’. Everyone remember?”

He laughs, genuinely loud, when a little girl in particular can be heard over the others, her pink tiara giving away which side she’s going to root for, regardless.

Louis steps off the empty spot while Mark repeats the moves with Devi as well, the two of them so well-matched that a trained eye would have a hard time picking one over the other. They’re rolling on the floor in unison like a dog would, staying on their back for a moment before completing their final turn and standing again. Louis climbs onto Baruti’s spot, pressing a hand into his mane. The cat is panting a little, not enough that Louis feels worried but enough that he notices. He knows the next part he’s supposed to do is the classic ‘putting his head in the lion’s mouth’ trick but he doesn’t think Baruti is up for much performing. He’ll send him back through the tunnel in a moment, and he tries to communicate with Preston but the burly man isn’t paying him any mind, eyes sharp on the tigresses as they return to their platforms.

Mark asks for the audience’s vote when Louis misses his cue, ‘princess’ winning by a majority though Louis returns to his senses long enough to pretend to not understand. They ask a couple more times until even the parents are yelling, before sending Kali and Devi through the tunnel to a round of applause. He wants to send Baruti back as well, but they won’t be prepared for him if he doesn’t let Preston know.

Figuring it won’t hurt to keep him in the show as a silent focus for the audience, he kneads at his spine a couple times with both hands before jumping down and bringing the audience to attention again. Mark notices the deviation in the program but doesn’t react outwardly to it, clearly trusting Louis’s judgement. Louis heads back to the top of Pride Rock, shouting out “Aslan Almighty!” to get the cat’s attention. “Have you been dosing this whole time?” Aslan turns his head and grunts, primed and waiting for Louis’ command. “How about some exercise?” he asks, cueing the cat to jump down and run his course. They’ve more room in London to set the obstacles apart, Aslan making his way through hoops and over jumps, on his belly under a low bar that’s been lifted for the next part.

He finishes the course by climbing up to Louis, letting out a roar when he’s finished. Louis makes a show of plugging his ears when it’s about to happen, though it’s a necessity for real. Nia is next, obviously eager for her turn. Louis keeps her still for a moment before bellowing out, “Nia is Aslan’s daughter and a bit new. How about a round of applause to get this cat moving?”

The audience cheers accordingly and Mark blows his whistle at the perfect moment, Nia spinning on her platform and taking her course. Louis can see Mark blow his whistle once more to slow her down, her speed enough that she’s risking injury. She bellies under the low bar- the part of the show where she’s inconsistent in rehearsals- and stalks up Pride Rock to stand at Louis’ other side.

His eyes have been on his ex for most of her run, Mark being the one who monitors them during this act, and he’s caught off-guard when she roars, deep like her father’s but not as long. His ex is watching him, smiling in a friendly manner when Louis startles visibly.

“Why didn’t you remind me what she was going to do?” he asks the audience in a joking tone, putting both hands on her cheeks. His back is to the audience for the first time, and their excited murmurs seem like the regular background noises until Aslan starts to pace. The action is so unlike him, usually steadfast during performances, that Louis checks over his shoulder. His ex’s attention is pulled away for the first time since Louis came under the lights, and Louis looks around further until he realizes Baruti isn’t on his platform anymore.

His negligence has allowed an agitated lion to remain in the show, and he must have been set off by the other cats’ roars, taking a lap around the arena before coming up the ramp leading to the front of the set. Louis tries to signal him to go back but Baruti isn’t listening. It’s too heavy for all three of them, and he sends Aslan back with a shouted command, nervousness clear in his voice.

His tone is confusing, and Aslan retreats partially only to turn back and look at Louis. Baruti stands in his vacated spot, still worked up judging by the heavy panting he’s doing. Paddy’s got the power hose in hand, clearly waiting for Mark’s command, and Louis orders Baruti down from the platform, trying to force confidence into his voice.

The cat is nervous, though, partially from Louis’ mood and partially from being on an unfamiliar set. He keeps looking down at the ground and back at Louis, and he rubs against Louis’ knees to comfort himself. “You’re alright, but you need to get back to centre,” Louis says, his mic having thankfully been turned off. Aslan’s finally left them alone, back on his platform but staring up at Louis instead of at the audience like he usually would.

Nia’s blissfully unaware, lying with her head on her paws at looking curiously over the audience. Louis tries to step back but Baruti’s behind his legs, continuing to nudge against him. “Go, Baruti, now,” Louis tries again, arms going out a bit to balance himself. The cat mistakes his gesturing and he lifts onto his hind legs for a hug, paws smacking on Louis’ shoulders and sending him over the edge of the set.

The ten-foot drop is the longest few seconds of Louis’ life. He has a split second to remember to keep his muscles loose, trying to land on his bum but mostly landing on his back. The pain is a shock through his system when he hits the hard floor, only a few thin nylon sheets over the concrete cushioning his fall. He feels for a moment like he’s going to black out, and there’s a ringing in his ears he can’t identify.

His mind feels heavy but he’s aware of first a whiskered snout nudging his face and then a pair of warm hands cupping his cheeks, opening his eyes to see who it is. Everything is doubled, two vague blurbs of someone who might be Harry kneeling over him.

“Hurts,” he whispers, and the blurb opens its mouth but Louis can’t hear anything, so he closes his eyes again.

~*~

When he next wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed. There’s a monitor beeping and a warm hand on his, but he’s too aware of the sharp, pounding pain in his skull to investigate anything further. He brings his free hand to his head, groaning loud when the pain sets it even further.

A nurse comes in, smiling reassuringly at him. “Good to see you awake, Louis,” she says in a soft voice, for which he is immensely grateful. “Your friend here hasn’t left your side,” she says, nodding to where Harry is holding his hand, head pillowed on Louis’ leg and eyes closed in sleep. “Poor guy hasn’t slept much at all.”

“How long’ve I been here?” Louis mutters, barely able to form the words.

“Just over twenty-four hours,” she answers, switching his IV bag and giving him a shot she says will help with the pain.

He’s about that thank her but the drugs hit his system quick and he’s asleep before he can get the words out.

~*~

 The next time he wakes up, the pain is dull but noticeable. Harry’s still next to him and holding his hand, but he’s turned in his seat towards someone to his left, legs crossed with his free hand in the space behind his knee. Louis can’t really turn his head very well without feeling dizzy, so he slowly shifts until he sees his ex, having a seemingly pleasant conversation with Harry.

“Hey, you’re up,” he says with a grin, Harry turning to look at him quickly.

“Lou,” he sighs with relief, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Louis’ hand before squeezing it tighter. “How’s your head? You hit it pretty hard.”

“Niall says you cracked the concrete with yer thick skull,” his ex says.

Louis tries to smile but he doesn’t think it’s convincing. The look on Harry’s face confirms that is definitely is not.

“Sorry,” he says, voice feeling hoarse a bit from disuse. “Could I- water?” he asks. Harry grabs a bottle from the bedside table.

“It’s a bit room temperature,” he apologises. “But I can get a fresh one for you, if you’d rather?”

Shaking his head out of habit, he startles at the pain sharp in his neck. “No, shit,” he breathes out. “S’fine, thank you.”

“Gave us all a bit of a scare,” his ex says, body language awkward now where it had been so loose and open with Harry. Harry has that effect on people, though, relaxes them where Louis never knows how to do anything but rile someone up. He sips from the bottle slowly, his stomach churning a bit. Harry keeps his right hand linked with Louis’ and lifts his left to brush his fringe back from his face.

“Gave meself a scare if m’honest. I don’t remember a lot, just falling for a long time.”

Harry smiles at him softly, tight around the edge of his lips, and Louis wants to apologize for every terrible thing he’d said to Harry but he doesn’t want to have the conversation in front of anyone else. Harry probably knows, though. He can read Louis like a book and it’s terrifying but exhilarating at the same time. No one has ever called Louis on his shit so easily before, and their last conversation will haunt him for a long time; long after he’s apologized and Harry- hopefully- forgives him.

“Hi,” he whispers, lifting his heavy left hand to reach over and run his fingers along Harry’s forearm. There’s tape and IVs in his arm so he can’t go far, but Harry’s smile relaxes a bit and he leans in to press a soft kiss to Louis’ chapped lips.

“Lip balm?” Harry asks him, fitting a large hand into his too-tight jeans and dragging out a stick. He makes a motion as if to do it for him but Louis groans and weakly bats his hand away, taking it from him and doing it himself.

“Not a complete invalid,” he says, laughing low when Harry looks like he wants to protest. He sees his ex stand, hovering awkwardly for a moment as if he’s going to leave.

“Wait,” Louis says, trying to scoot himself up the bed a bit. Doting as always, Harry helps him automatically, and Louis finds that his head hurts a lot less when he’s in a more upright position. “Can we talk for a minute, Haz?”

“Of course, I’ll go get some more water. You want me to see if there’s anything good to eat?”

“Biscuits,” Louis says, pouting when Harry looks like he’s going to protest.

“Digestives, to be exact,” his ex says, stepping a bit closer. “He says ‘biscuits’ as if he’ll love any choice, but he really only likes digestives when he’s sick. His mum will bring some later if they don’t have any in the cafeteria.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, stepping away from the bed and walking out of the room.

The honey-coloured eyes in front of him are as brilliant as he remembers, their colour burned in his dreams as much as the red silk has been. The lad in front of him was his first love, when he thought that ‘forever’ was a tangible thing and nothing could get in the way of a love story. He knows, now, how silly they’d been, but he’s carried around so much resentment for so long that he doesn’t entirely know how to truly let it all go.

“Why were you there?” he asks, finally looking down at his hands.

“Wanted to see you, all of you. See how you lot have been.”

“We’re fine,” Louis says, not keeping the bite out of his voice.

“No, c’mon Lou. I know you guys are fine. Smashing it, always. I just… I missed you guys- you, Niall, Liam- and I wanted to show my sisters where I went before uni. This was the first year I could afford to take them all, so we came. I didn’t mean to throw you off.”

“You didn’t.” The words are pointed but less snappish, his eyes closing against another brief dizzy spell. It feels as though his headache is receding a bit, and he cannot believe he’s ever complained about a hangover before; this is about a dozen times worse.

“I know I didn’t leave the right way,” he starts but Louis cuts him off with a sigh.

“No, you didn’t,” he agrees. “You snuck out one night, took half me clothes with ya it seems, and you just disappeared from all of our lives. I just wanted you to come back.”

“I didn’t disappear completely,” he admits. “Liam and I- we still talk, a bit.”

“I suspected,” Louis says with a small laugh. “He’d get a pinched look on his face if you were brought up, the one he gets when he’s keeping secrets. I just figured he didn’t want to upset me. I was proper gone for you.”

“I know,” he says. “I was so in love with you. I just didn’t think staying was an option.”

“Do you regret leaving?” Louis asks, hating himself for the question but needing to hear the answer. He’s gone back-and-forth for years, wondering how his life might have changed. It’s only in the past few days that he’s been thinking about the situation differently, seeing it from another’s perspective. Liam and Niall were right, his ex was never made for circus life. He was an artist, he loved the stage, but he wouldn’t enjoy being away from his family for nine months out of the year. It’s why people don’t stay when they run away to join their company: family ties are stronger than anything. Only people born into the lifestyle or those who have no one left are able to hack it.

“Sometimes,” his ex says honestly. “Not so much anymore. I finished uni and I’m going to be an English teacher, so that’s something I wouldn’t be able to do in a circus. But I regretted it a lot at first. Used to hav’ta talk myself out of coming back. Missed you, missed the lads.”

“It just wasn’t a life for you, not the way it is for me.”

His ex nods, smiling softly and brushing his fingers along the back of Louis’ hand. “You’ve got a good lad, now. I’ve never seen anyone react the way he did when you fell. Thought he was going to fight a lion for you.”

Louis grins and tilts his head back against the pillow, looking into his ex’s eyes again. “He probably would,” he boasts. “Even when he’s mad at me, he’d still do anything for anyone.”

They’re quiet for a moment, his fingers still on the back of Louis’ hand. “I got something to show you,” he finally says, turning his hand a bit so Louis can see the side of it. ‘Bus 1’ is in a bold, dark stencil font along the skin and Louis laughs, ignoring the way his head hurts from making the sound.

“You didn’t!” Louis says, giggling still as he reaches out and pokes the tattoo.

“Did,” he says. “Wanted to remember everything about that time, even if some of it hurt.”

“Yer mum must have lost her mind.”

“Yeah, she didn’t love it and I’d used up all of the ‘I’ve returned from the circus, didn’t you miss me?’ points by the time I got it. Dad thought it was sick.”

Just then, Harry sticks his head around the door with a wary expression. He smiles when he sees Louis laughing, though, coming into the room. “Am I interrupting?” he asks, two cold water bottles in one of his bear paw-sized hands and a sleeve of digestives in his other.

Louis beams at him and makes grabby hands for the biscuits, opening them carefully and eating one quickly. His ex laughs and pats him on the shoulder gently. “Think I’m going to head out.”

“Thanks for coming to the show. Sorry if I scared your sisters.”

“They’re okay, a bit frightened and I had to make them all promise not to tell mum, but you actually got up a bit and waved at the audience, so they weren’t too upset.”

“I don’t remember that,” Louis admits, biting into another biscuit and wiping the crumbs off his lap.

Harry takes the now vacant seat by his head, passing him a bottle and giving Louis’ ex a bit of a wave as he leaves. “How did that go?” he asks once the door swings closed.

“It was good. I think I got some closure, actually. Don’t tell Niall I said this, but I might have actually needed that.”

Harry nods as he speaks, grabbing a biscuit for himself and eating it neatly. “I’m glad you said that. When I realized who you were looking at in the audience, I sort of figured it was him.”

“Haz, I wasn’t upset because of him, I promise. Not the way you’re thinking. I was so messed up over you, over what I said to you. I’m so sorry for that, I never should have let you think you were replacing anyone.”

“Louis, it’s okay,” Harry says, but Louis can’t stop talking now that he’s started.

“I’m not going to say you two aren’t similar, because you are in so many ways. But I don’t see him when I look at you. I don’t see the holes he left when I hold your hand. I think I got over him a long time ago but I never let myself realize it because-“ He stops, taking a deep breath and willing his headache to hold off long enough that he can finish what he needs to say. “It was easier, hooking up with people who were going to leave. I didn’t have to worry about getting attached or expecting anything from them. If I had let myself admit that I was over him, I wouldn’t have been able to hide behind this ‘damaged’ shell I’d built around myself-”

“Louis. Shut up.”

He does, lips pressing together when Harry’s voice gets firm. He’s smiling, green eyes sparkling, so Louis smiles back hesitantly.

“I appreciate the apology,” Harry starts, both hands coming to take both of Louis’. “And what you said was mean and deserves an apology, so I accept and I forgive you.”

“How can you-“

“Shush,” Harry reminds him, squeezing his hands gently. “I forgive you because I believe that you didn’t realize how I was feeling, like I was just a placeholder. And because losing my mum made me realize that life is really as short as everyone always says, and holding on to anger is so petty and worthless.”

“I love you,” Louis says, voice barely above a whisper. He clears his throat and tries again, louder. “I love you. Very much.”

Harry leans in to press his lips to Louis’ mouth again, just soft, gentle pressure. “I love you, too. Even if you are a bit of an arse and you’ve horrible taste in biscuits.”

“S’only when I’m poorly,” he says with a pout, grinning when Harry kisses him again.

~*~

Louis gets to go home that night. Most of his injuries are bruises, though he’s fractured a rib and it hurts to breathe in deep. Harry and his mum both took extensive notes when the doctor told them how to help him with the aftercare, her smile fond when they’d interrupt to clarify a previous point. Louis bitches and moans the whole way down the lifts, biting down on a smile when Harry accuses him of enjoying every second of the fuss they make over him.

“Hazza, my head hurts,” he whimpers pitifully, smirking when Harry fusses over him a bit more.

“Cheater,” Harry hisses when he realizes, pressing a kiss to Louis’ forehead anyway.

“Love you,” Louis responds. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, now that he’s started. The words slip out again and again. He’d shout it from the top of Pride Rock if he could get that much air in his lungs.

~*~

He’s lying in bed the next morning, watching Harry get dressed for the day. He’s in just a pair of pants, enjoying the sunlight filtering through the barn windows of Liam’s grandparents’ property. Harry knees up onto the bed so he can plant his hands either side of Louis’ head, dipping in to kiss him soundly. He’s careful not to get his knees too close to Louis’ sides, but Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and tries to tug him in closer.

Bracing himself with his elbows locked, Harry resists. “Lou, not until your rib is better,” he reprimands.

“S’better, promise,” Louis says with a grin, crossing his fingers over his heart. “’M perfectly healed.”

“You’re perfectly full of shit,” Harry laughs, pulling away.

Louis giggles and rolls onto his stomach carefully, the pain mostly a pressure not unlike the bruises decorating his back. They’re quiet for a moment while Harry finishes, grabbing a jumper to ward off the cool autumn morning chill in the air. His hair is beautifully tousled when he’s done, locks hanging to his shoulders until he reaches up and tucks it into a bun.

“Hazza?”

“Hmm?”

“After I woke up, when I was talking with him,” Louis begins, so used to avoiding saying the name that it’s become second-nature, “he said you’d fight a lion off of me. What did he mean?”

Harry flushes but grins, dimples deep in his cheek. “Baruti was the first one to get to you, has anyone told you that?” Louis shakes his head and Harry nods. “Mark was sending the other cats out but he didn’t listen-”

“Insolent oaf,” Louis interrupts.

“-while Aslan and Nia left, Baruti went to you. He sniffed you a bit and laid down next to you with his head on his paws. He wouldn’t respond to Marks signal until I got to you.”

“You were watching?” Louis asks, not sure why he hadn’t realized that before.

“Of course I was. Wouldn’t miss you on stage, not for anything. Anyway, I got closer but couldn’t reach you because of the way he was laying. So I stomped my feet and shouted until he stood up, and then I was kneeling next to you and he was finally following Mark’s order. I don’t remember much else.”

Louis’ struck silent, eyes wide. “That’s a big deal, Haz.”

“He wasn’t going to hurt you,” Harry shrugs. “And I think he knew I just wanted to protect you, too.”

Shocked to feel tears building in his eyes, Louis gets red and turns his cheek so his face is pressed into the sheets. Immediately, Harry kneels by the side of the bed, running a hand in Louis’ hair.

“Shh,” he soothes him. “You don’t need to cry, it’s all okay.”

“’M not crying,” Louis says through a clear thick of tears. “Jus’ a big deal, ‘s all. Someone doing that for me. Even when I’d been such a fuck up to him.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a long time to make that up to me,” Harry teases, pressing a kiss to Louis’ hot cheek.

“I haven’t introduced you to Nia yet,” Louis offers.

“Perfect,” Harry agrees, smiling when Louis makes to sit up. “As soon as you’re healthy.”

With a groan, Louis settles back onto the bed. “Well, I guess we've got time enough for that; you’re not going anywhere,” he says, a hint of a question in his tone even though he’s much more confident about the thought of someone sticking around for him than he’s been before.

“Nope," Harry says, popping his lips on the 'p'. "You're stuck with me for a long, long time.”

And that sounds perfect to Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! My inspiration tag on tumblr is [here](http://sa-voix.tumblr.com/tagged/circus-fic), featuring head canon pictures for all animals including the elephants who didn't feature in this nearly as much as they should have.


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